


Hidden

by SteeleHoltingOn



Series: Ice and Fire [3]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Peggy Carter, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:44:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4492317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteeleHoltingOn/pseuds/SteeleHoltingOn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One by one, those closest to the Stark family learned the secret Tony kept from the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Parental Units

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Tagging for underage drinking, but it's Stark, so no surprises there.

_September 1988_

 

Ah, perfect timing. Of course, the watch Tony wore had beeped incessantly to let him know Darcy was waking up.  He hovered over the end of the crib as Darcy stretched her arms overhead and wrinkled her nose.  Seriously, top ten favorite look on his kid.  When he swooped in and picked her up, she giggled, waving her hands happily.

As he changed her diaper, he decided that he was getting the hang of this.  Sleep--no (hell, that had never been a priority).  Keeping the baby alive--yes.  There had been a few dicey moments and eight dozen panicked phone calls to Aunt Peggy.

She’d only rescued him twice.  The first on the day she’d helped him relocate to Stark Mansion and stock up the nursery.  He truly hadn’t known the old place still had cribs, high chairs, linens, and all that. She’d stayed with him that weekend, teaching him the basics of caring for an infant.

After that, she’d insisted that he was smart enough to figure out the rest.  In between Darcy’s naps and falling on his face, he read everything he could get his hands on.  He discovered the little front packs for carrying babies and decided the inventor was a genius.  Really. Darcy didn’t care where Tony was or what he was doing, so long as she was near him.

Since Tony never lasted more than an hour at any one task, they did pretty well together.  She was content to sleep on him or watch whatever he was doing.

Now that he was reasonably sure he could keep Darcy alive for more than a day or so at a time, his new pet project was designing a little help around the house.  He’d rewired the nursery to give him full audio and video.  The motion sensors gave him warning whenever Darcy woke.  If he could tell the damned sensors how to know the difference between waking up and squeaking in her sleep, he’d be set.  Well, that and he needed a robot to do laundry.

Tony hated washing diapers.  But he couldn’t exactly hire a diaper service if he wanted to keep the world from knowing about Darcy.  Bringing in supplies was easier.  He had everything shipped to Aunt Peggy’s house in DC.  Peggy had a one-year old niece, so infant supplies weren’t entirely out of line.  All that stuff got boxed up again and sent to Stark Industries, then forwarded to the mansion.

The one time he’d ventured out to Babies R Us had resulted in far too many toys and a head cold he’d ended up sharing with Darcy. That had the honor of being the second time that Peggy bailed him out.  She’d brought a doctor in to look over Darcy. However, though she’d offered to look over his fussy daughter while he slept, the little girl refused to be away from her daddy. They’d napped a lot instead, while Peggy watched over them.

He’d already started that day’s laundry load, warmed a bottle, and settled into the rocking chair in Darcy’s room to feed her, when a knock on the door startled him.

“Mr. Stark.”

Tony exhaled with relief.  Edwin Jarvis was about to be surprised, but would take it in good grace.

“Come in, Jarvis.”

The elderly butler quirked his lips at the sight before him.  He’d had decades of experience at suppressing shock at anything a Stark might do.  “I had wondered if elves had taken up residency in the nursery.  I’m quite relieved to see it’s only you. Would you care to make introductions?”  

Tony stood as Jarvis crossed the room. For eighty-something, the man was spry and graceful in that way the elderly sometimes had.  But his age showed in the slow movements and the knobby joints that were often painfully swollen.

Today was a good day though, and Darcy popped off the bottle to grin at the newcomer.  Jarvis smiled at her, nipping her out of Tony’s hands with practiced ease. “Now, there you go, love.  What’s your name?”

“Darcy Maria Stark,” Tony answered for her.

Jarvis raised his eyebrows.  “And the mother?”

“Not interested.”

The older man pressed his lips in a hard line as he took the bottle from Tony. He settled into the rocking chair with Darcy.  “So you have full charge of this little darling.  I daresay you aren’t looking forward to breaking the news to your parents.”

Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling weirdly bereft with his now-empty hands. “Aunt Peggy said she’d be here in the morning to run interference.” Jarvis hummed under his breath and gave Tony one of those steady, assessing looks.  Tony picked up a stuffed bear out of Darcy’s crib and squeezed it a couple of times. “She’s mine. I’ve taken care of her.  No babysitters. No nannies.  I’ve even learned how to wash her clothes and run the vacuum.”

“Ready to pass her off?”

“Just pointing out, you stole her from me just now.  And no. We’ve worked out a system.  She hangs out in the baby carrier, and I work on my projects until she gets bored.”

“Is she fussy?”

“Only if I’m slow.”

“Sounds like her father.”

The lump in Tony’s throat weirded him out.  “Father” was a label he’d always applied to Howard, not himself.  He shrugged with pretended nonchalance instead of answering Jarvis.

“So you’ve hidden out in Stark Mansion for the entire summer. The press must be wondering where you are by now.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Jarvis made a silly face at Darcy.  “I assume your daddy doesn’t want anyone to know you’re here,” he told her.

Tony shifted from foot to foot. “Aunt Peggy hid her birth certificate in that upstate courthouse.  The clerk and Peggy have an understanding.  She’ll wait a few years, file it, and backdate everything so it doesn’t appear on any of the recent public records.”

“And the mother?”

“Signed over her parental rights and put her signature on a confidentiality agreement that’s going to make her life hell if she violates it. As far as her records show, she gave a baby up for a closed adoption.”

“Has she seen Darcy?”

“Nope. But she knows how to get into touch with me.”

Jarvis considered the situation.  “You’ve made too much of a spectacle of yourself this past year to stop that entirely, Sir. In fact, I think tonight would be a perfect time for that, and you’ll have a nice cover.  If the world is busy looking at you, they won’t be looking for your daughter.”

“You’ll help me?” Tony hated the pleading his own voice.

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” Jarvis rolled his eyes a little. “I need two hours to make preparations for Mr. and Mrs. Stark’s return on the morrow.  After that, you are free to conduct your business as you see fit.  I will care for Miss Stark in your stead, though I might remind you that I am an old man and need my sleep.”

Tony grinned.  Only now could he admit that he’d wanted to be in Jarvis’ good graces.  “So I can get drunk, make a scene that will be recorded by the papers, throw Stark money around for fun, but I have to be home by midnight?”

“Precisely.”

He rubbed his hands together.  “Sounds like a challenge.”

Jarvis rose, handing Darcy off, though he kept the bottle.  “She needs a new diaper.”

Tony wrinkled his nose.  “Of course she does.”

 

******

 

Darcy lay on her back on Tony’s bed, happily flapping her hands as she tried to crane her head around to see her daddy.

Tony kept one elbow over his eyes and one hand close enough for Darcy to clutch in her fingers. She was going through another growth spurt, which meant being hungry every two hours.  And considering the evening he’d had, it had been a very long night. Jarvis had happily handed over Darcy as soon as Tony stepped through the door and toddled off for what was sure to be eight straight hours of sleep.

Heel clicks coming down the hallway warned him who was coming.  “Anthony.” Peggy Carter’s British tones never failed to make him happy.

He peeked under his elbow.  “She’s still alive.”  

With a laugh, Peggy snatched up Darcy for a snuggle.  “I’m rather proud of you for that.” She glared at Tony.  “Get dressed. Shower. Shave. Your parents will be here in half an hour.”

“What does it matter what I wear?”

She shot him a dark look. “Just because it is your parents, that does not mean it is any less of a show than the one you put on last night.  It’s in the papers, you know.”

“Oh good, one more thing for them to hate me for.”

Peggy tapped Darcy on the nose.  “Only this time, it was deliberate, I think.  I happened to know that Jarvis is the only person you would trust with Darcy. The timing was telling. And it’s an excellent cover.”

“So I’m supposed to keep up the asshole act?”

“It shouldn’t be hard,” she said drily. He grinned as she continued, “Slacks, polo, shoes.  I’ll dress Darcy. Has she eaten?”

Tony headed for his closet.  “Yes.  But she’s in the middle of a growth spurt. Jarvis said it’s like feeding a teenager, with less actual food involved.”

“So you both eat every ninety minutes.”

“Exactly.” Tony was halfway through scrubbing his hair when he realized he didn’t feel like a teenager anymore.  One summer of having a tiny creature relying on him had changed his perceptions on most everything.

The club he’d crashed last night had been a fun distraction.  He’d had enough to drink to keep everything blurry, but couldn’t stop thinking about Darcy, even in the middle of the dance floor.  He wondered if being a parent showed, and found himself skimming the crowd, wondering who else might have a kidlet or two or three.

He definitely remembered the girl in the bathroom. That was nice.

A banging on the door got him to shut off the water.  “Anthony, five minutes,” Peggy yelled.

“Five minutes ago, you said I had thirty,” he called back.

“And that’s twenty-five you’ve been standing under the water.”

“I shaved.”

“That’s one good thing,” Peggy commented as she shoved the door open.

Tony hardly had a chance to get his briefs in place.  How Aunt Peggy managed the clothes, the baby, and the door was a wonder, and he gaped as she passed him a hanger with his shirt and slacks on it.

“Wear these,” she insisted.  She squinted.  “Are you really keeping the goatee?”

“I like it.” Figuring Peggy wasn’t going to leave, he pulled his pants on and buttoned his shirt in place.

“Either grow it in more or shave it off.  It looks like you’re trying to be Don Johnson.”

“Oh, ouch.  That’s about five years too late,” Tony quipped.  

“Thank heavens you don’t have a thing for white pants.”

“Nope. Mom would have a conniption if I wore white anywhere but on a boat.”

“She’s right. Dress for the occasion.  It means more than you think.” She followed him to the closet as he rummaged through for a belt and socks.

“I’ve heard about your lipstick.”

“Know your enemy,” Peggy retorted.  “It’s amazing how much power a little red can have.”

He stuffed his feet into his shoes, straightened his clothes one last time, and turned to face Peggy.

She looked him over with a critical eye. “You’ll do. Take your daughter.”  Peggy had dressed Darcy in red and blue overalls that had a spray of white stars across the front.

Tony hugged Darcy to him.  “Going for the Cap connection, Aunt Peggy? You fight dirty.”

“I’ve never been afraid of a little mud. I’m certainly not afraid of Howard Stark.” Peggy straightened her sleeves and turned on a heel to meet her old friend.  

 

 

In the end, Tony hid behind Peggy’s coattails while she went toe-to-toe with Howard.  They shouted at each other, passing insults back and forth with ease. Peggy wasn’t above digging up a little dirt on Howard to keep him in place.

“This—this is a waste, Peggy.  Look at him. Buried at home, taking care of a baby when he should be out—building, creating. He was meant for more than this!” Howard bellowed.

“Darcy is is flesh and blood. There is no higher honor than to care for a child. You should be ashamed of yourself for criticizing him for doing the right thing.”

The entire time, Maria stood quietly behind Howard.  As always, Tony’s mother never said a word in support of him. At least, not in front of his father.

When Darcy began to cry at the loud voices, Tony stalked out to the courtyard. He held her perhaps a little too tight, but she didn’t seem to mind.  She calmed as the morning sun warmed the bricks, forcing Tony to swallow his own tears that had welled up.  

He’d known his parents would be disappointed.  But even if they hated Tony, couldn’t they see how beautiful his daughter was?  She was theirs, too.  Another Stark to carry on the family legacy.

“He’ll come around, Tony.”

He whirled around at his mother’s voice. “Sure, like the other two thousand times he hasn’t forgiven me.”

Maria touched Darcy’s cheek, and the little girl widened her eyes in curiosity.  “May I hold her?” she asked.  

“Uh, yeah.” Tony settled his daughter into his mother’s arms and stuffed his hands in his pockets again.

“How old is she?”

“Three and a half months.  Her birthday is a couple of days after mine.”  Tony ran a hand over Darcy's fuzzy black hair. “She doesn’t look like me. I had tests done, though. She’s mine.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Dad will.”

“Let Peggy handle your dad,” Maria insisted. “She’s the only person who ever could.” She cooed at Darcy, bounced her a little, and laughed when she chortled in happiness.

Tony studied his mother and daughter.   “Can I stay here for a while?  Until I can find a better place to hide her?”

Maria’s mouth dropped open.  “Of course. This is your home, Tony.”

But Howard, as he came up behind his wife, barked out “Hide?”

Tony firmed his mouth as Peggy and Jarvis flanked him in support.  “We’re not telling anyone about her.  She’s not going to be raised in boarding schools and in the eye of the media.  She’s not going to be paraded around as the next heir to Stark Industries. Not until she’s damned good and ready for it.”

“The media will find out as soon as you file the birth certificate,” Howard countered smugly.

“It’s already done,” Peggy said, with no little satisfaction in her voice as Howard’s face fell.  He hated losing an argument.

Peggy continued, “No one knows she’s here.  The mansion is private enough that no one should ever see her coming and going unless you walk out the front door with her.”

Howard glared at Maria. He glared at Peggy.  He shook his head at Tony.  “Just keep her out of my way. I’ve got work to do.”

 

*****

 

It took months for Howard to thaw toward his granddaughter, and he never quite forgave Tony for his transgression.  But the tides began to turn one afternoon as Tony programmed his new holo-table in the lab he’d set up in a spare room in the Mansion.  Darcy was in the baby pack he had strapped to him, as always.  She kept reaching for the transparent images and squeaked alternately in happiness and frustration as she was unable to clutch anything more than air.

At eight months, Darcy babbled non-stop.  She already said, “Dada,” “Jar,” and “Beg,” which was apparently close enough that Aunt Peggy would answer. Oh, and she’d learned the word, “No.”

For the most part, Tony ignored her antics as he worked, though he occasionally held her hand as he thought through the coding.  If he could get the holotable functioning the way he wanted, the technology would pave the way for the AI he was building to help him keep an eye on Darcy.  She would be crawling in a matter of days, not weeks, now.

“Dat?” Darcy asked, as she missed the image again.

“Hologram.”

“Gam.”

Howard stood in the doorway of Tony’s lab.  “You don’t seem to mind having her around. I honestly thought you would hand her over to Jarvis or your mother.”

Tony flicked a quick look at his dad and kept right on programming.  “She’s not their problem.”

With a sigh, Howard came to stand by Tony. “She’s not a problem.”

“Gm--BAH!” That was her version of “grandpa,” and even an old fuddy-duddy like Tony’s dad smiled.

Howard held out his finger, and Darcy curled her hand around it to pull it into her mouth.

“You might not want to do that. She’s teething,” Tony said absently.  He reached for a fresh, cold teething ring from the fridge he kept under his work table, wrapped a Velcro strip around part of it, and handed it to Darcy.  The Velcro was attached a string that clipped to her outfit so if she dropped it, Tony could retrieve it rather than picking it up from the floor.

She waved it happily and stuffed it in her mouth with both hands.   

"May I hold her?” Howard asked. It wasn’t the first time, but Tony could still count on one hand the number of times his father had wanted anything to do with Darcy.

Without a word, Tony unsnapped Darcy out of the carrier and passed her over.  Howard settled her in one arm and proceeded to show her around the lab, naming every single tool and piece of equipment.  Darcy chewed on her ring, echoing.

“Wrench.”

“Ench.”

“Engine.”

“Jin.”

“Diagram.”

“Gram.”

Tony smiled to himself as he brought the hologram online for the first time.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Darcy’s vocal abilities are based on the kids of my friend and her sister-in-law. The cousins were born ten days apart. Whether it was genetics or the company, both children spoke in full sentences by the time they walked around nine or ten months. (Which is early for both. Really early.)
> 
> Neither of my kids spoke until they were three, so I would be dazed at the sight of two tiny little boys gabbing away in full, coherent conversations at the same ages that my kids were pointing at objects and staring at me.
> 
> Also, Tony's holographic tech wouldn't resemble what we think from Iron Man in his lab yet. At the time, MRI's and CT scanning were readily available, so this would be more along the lines of being able to scan a room and project an static image.
> 
> If you want more info on my headcanon for Stark Mansion, cllick here: [Stark Mansion Meta](http://steeleholtingon.tumblr.com/post/127314764491/ice-and-fire-verse-headcanon)
> 
> This story hopscotches across the timeline of my Ice and Fire 'verse. If you want to know how it all intertwines, go here:  
> [Ice and Fire Timeline](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4494558)


	2. Rhodey

 

_February 1992_

  
Lieutenant James Rhodes had been in the Air Force long enough to know that when you were met on the tarmac by your C.O., either you were fucked or all hell was about to break loose.

He dropped his duffle and snapped out a salute. “Sir.”

Captain Stills returned the salute. “Lieutenant. You’ve got a secured call waiting for you in my office.”

“Yes, sir.” He snatched up the duffle bag again and double-timed it after his C.O.

Stills closed the door behind Rhodes and stood guard outside while he took the call.  “Rhodes speaking.”

“ _Lieutenant_ ,” Peggy’s Carter’s crisp vowels filled him with trepidation.  Fuck. Looked like option number two was the call of the day.

“What’d he do this time, Director Carter?’  

_“He’s in Vegas, making an ass of himself. It’s one thing for a weekend here and there, but it’s been two weeks.  He has responsibilities. I can’t leave DC to chase him down, and I don’t trust Obadiah Stane any farther than I can throw him.”_

“Ma’am, what do you want me to do?”

_“Bring him home. Sober him up enough to have a real conversation.”_

“Where is he calling home these days?”

_“Stark Mansion, of course.  Even without Jarvis and his parents, it--well, you’ll see.”_

Rhodes could hear the weariness in Peggy Carter’s voice.  Hell.  Yeah, she’d lost two of her closest friends these past six months, too. Jarvis had succumbed to old age last summer, and now with Howard gone in a car wreck that no one really believed was an accident, no wonder she’d reached out for help with Tony.   Rumor mill had it that she was attempting to step down as director too.

This wouldn’t be the first time he’d pulled Tony out of some kind of scandal.  The kid had a shitty family, a brilliant mind, and a penchant for mischief that was equal parts a bid for attention and pure curiosity to see the results.

He and Tony had been friends since MIT.  After graduating from the Air Force Academy, Rhodes had earned a grad school slot.  Just days after accepting, he’d received a phone call from S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Peggy Carter with a unique request.  He hadn’t minded having a 15-year-old whiz kid as a roommate.  Tony had already been at MIT for a couple of years, but hadn’t really formed any close friends. The seven years between them seemed less of a stretch by Tony’s senior year, and they’d moved from a older/younger sibling relationship to the best of friends.  Rhodey gave the bright-eyed kid stability, and Tony kept him from being too stodgy for his own good.

Going their separate ways after MIT had been hard on both of them, and more than once, Rhodey had spent his leave prying Tony out of a bar somewhere. Nobody seemed to give a shit that the kid was only seventeen. Stark money talked.

Rhodes had zero illusions about the reason he’d landed a sweet spot in the Air Force in the weapons development program. USAF made damned sure the son of their top weapons manufacturer-cum- owner of Stark Industries had someone on the inside he trusted. Rhodey often wondered how high up that particular set of orders went.  

“Guess I don’t need leave since this falls under national security?” Rhodey offered the director.

_“You’re on the mark, Lieutenant.  Call me when you have him reasonably sober.”_

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

*****

 

It was no surprise that Tony Stark was falling apart after the loss of his parents in December.  The papers gleefully pounced on every vice the young man had, advertising it to the world.  

The board of directors had elected Obadiah Stane as interim CEO until Tony came of age in a few months.  Rhodey found it curious that Director Carter didn’t like the man. Stane had a reputation as a savvy son-of-a-bitch, and Howard had steadily encouraged the man’s efforts.  In any case, Rhodey would heed Carter’s warning.  

Stane didn’t seem to have any interest in checking Tony’s behavior.  Or maybe he didn’t have that sort of influence.

But Rhodey did.  

He found Stark in the newly built Mirage hotel.  The suite was littered with whomever he’d invited up for the night, and it took Rhodey a full hour to wake them all up and send them on their way.  He breathed a sigh of relief when all he found was scads of alcohol and a variety of ladies.  The last thing Tony needed was a drug problem.  

He woke his friend by opening the curtains to let the late morning light stream in.  

“Mmphf-dammitwhat-mfh.” Tony rolled to his back.  “Rhodey? Come to join the party?”

“The party went home. Time for you to go home, too.”

“Party-pooper.”

“That’s me.”

“Aunt Peggy send you?”

Rhodey sat on the edge of the bed.  “Is that what this was about? Seeing just who gave a shit about you? You know you can pick up the phone and call me.”

Squinting, Tony rolled out of bed, ignoring his lack of clothing.  “I’m still too drunk for this kind of psychotherapy.  Shower, then food. What day is it?”

“Tuesday.”

Tony actually paled at that. “Fuck.”

“Lose track of a few?”

The younger man didn’t answer, just picked up a little flip cell phone off the nightstand and started dialing. The bathroom door slammed shut before Rhodey could figure out who his friend might be calling, but it really didn’t matter right now.

By the time Rhodey called the front desk to check out and rounded up whatever he could find that might belong to Stark, Tony had shuffled out of the bathroom, dressed, shaved, and looking ridiculously put-together for someone on a ten-day bender.

“How the hell do you do it?” Rhodey indicated the whole look.

“Practice.  Did you call for the car?”

“You drove?”

“Yup.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes.  “You hungry?”

“Nope.  Could use a martini though.”

“Not happening.  You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

Rhodey found Tony’s billfold, lifted a couple of hundred dollar bills out of it and tossed the wallet at his friend.  “Fine.  Let’s go find your car.”  

“Uh, that’s what valet parking is for.”

Shit.  “Of course it is, Stark.”  Rhodey sighed as the bellhop knocked on the door.

Well-versed in the ways of the rich, and with too many years of hanging around with Stark, Rhodey slipped a tip to the bellhop as the young man took the luggage and promised to have the car ready in ten minutes.

“Coffee is waiting for you in the lounge, sirs,” the bellhop assured them.  

They took the promised coffee and a pair of cinnamon rolls, eating them as as they descended in the elevator.  Tony finished his, wiped his hands and face on a napkin, and threw everything in the trash as he exited. He strolled to the valet, who passed him the keys to the bright red Ferrari Testarossa parked in the hotel drive.  

Rhodey dumped his own trash in a nearby waste can, plucked the keys out of Tony’s hand, passed the valet the other hundred dollar bill, and slid into the driver’s seat.  He made a few adjustments as Tony took the passenger side, settled his sunglasses in place, and crossed his arms.  

“Home, James.”

“Shut the hell up, Stark.  You’re drunk, and we’ve got two days of driving to do. Get some sleep.  When you wake up, you can tell me what the fuck all this was about.”

 

 

With only the thrum of the Ferrari engine to accompany him, Rhodey got three hours of peace before Tony woke up.  The younger man lasted ten minutes before he started fidgeting.

“I wanna drive,” Tony insisted.

“Tough.  Nice ride though,” Rhodey said, as he patted the dash.  And it was.

“You’re driving like an old lady.”

“I’m doing 95.”

“Yeah, well, take it up to 125 and let me know what you think.”

Rhodey grinned, downshifted, and let the Ferrari fly. He listened to the sweetness of the engine.   “I love good engineering.”

“You still drive like an old lady.”

“Pointing out that I’m driving and you’re not.  You gonna tell me what all this was about?”

“You taking me home?”

“Yup.”

Tony leaned against the headrest. “You’ll see when we get there. Wake me when you’ll let me drive.”

 

*****

 

Rhodey had been astonished the first time he’d come home with Tony on an impromptu road trip from Boston to New York. He’d damned near wrecked his old beater when Tony directed him into the courtyard of Stark Mansion.   

Some of the novelty had worn off in the dozens of subsequent trips and the two summers he’d spent hanging out with Tony in his lab, building whatever shit they dreamed up.  Hell, that had been the most fun he’d had to date. Rhodey was pretty sure he had a slick-as-shit turbine engine laying around here somewhere.

“Who’s keeping up with the house, Stark?” he asked.

“I closed up most of it. Don’t really want anyone else around.”

Shit. That explained Tony’s need to cut loose.  While Stark could lose himself in his work for hours at a time, he wasn’t really cut out to be a loner whenever he came up for air.  Rhodey’s gut ached for his friend who’d lost so much in such a short period of time.  He couldn’t imagine dealing with all that and inheriting a company the size of Stark Industries.  

He turned the engine off, reveling in the silence after nearly forty hours straight in the car.  He wanted a shower and a horizontal bed.

Tony sighed as he slammed the car door shut.  “You coming?” he threw over his shoulder.  “Aunt Peggy’s already here.”

As Rhodey followed, he wondered why Stark bothered staying in the mansion. Tony had made it clear he hated the place, and had moved out minutes after graduation for a year or so before moving back in.

With hands stuffed in his pockets, Tony pulled out a chair and listened to Peggy as she railed at him. “You have no right to do this, Anthony.  Don’t you dare turn into Howard.”

“Low blow, Aunt Peggy. He’s not that cold in his grave,” Tony shot back.

“How is this any different than sending you to boarding school?” Peggy retorted.

Ouch. Rhodey could see the impact like a physical strike on Tony, though he still wasn’t quite sure what they were arguing about.

Carter pivoted, stopping only briefly as she exited the mansion. “Lieutenant. Don’t leave without letting him tell you the truth. Anthony needs people he can count on. And thank you.  Call me if you need anything further.”  

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rhodey kept an eye on Tony as he took a seat on the edge of the sofa.  He frowned at the scattered crayons and coloring books on the floor, tilting his head to read one of them. Wonder Woman.  The artist wasn’t half bad, though he or she had added rockets and gravity lifts to the superhero costume.  

“Taking up a new hobby?” Rhodey asked.

Tony snorted as he turned, his face red with ... anger? humiliation? “You could say that.  How long did the Air Force send you to babysit me?”  

“I'm not babysitting, and I don’t have a timeframe.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s only sort of bullshit, and yeah, the Air Force is a little freaked out. But I’m your friend. Want to tell me what’s going on? I know this has been a shit year, and it’s not going to get any better for a while.”  Tony’s shoulders slumped.  He scrubbed at his face.  Rhodey came up beside him and clasped an arm around his shoulders.  “Fuckin’ A, man, this shit sucks. Whatever you need.”

“We’re friends, right? Good friends? You don’t regret getting stuck with the Stark brat?”

Taken aback, Rhodey glared at Tony.  “I volunteered, remember? We’re best friends. Now what’s this about?”

“I’ve been keeping a secret from you.  Not on purpose. Well, sort of on purpose, but by accident because you weren’t really here, and it’s not the kind of thing for the phone, or mail, or, whatever.”

Tony always rattled on whenever he was nervous, and Rhodey squeezed his shoulder again. “Calm the fuck down, Stark. Just tell me what it is.”  

Rhodey stepped backward as Tony walked over to an old television cabinet on the far side of the room and rapped on the top of it. “Darcy. I’m sorry, sweetheart.  I told you that I suck at this.”

The doors popped open, and a tiny, dark-haired imp crawled out.  She had a remote control box in one hand, and a little robot followed her out of the hiding space.  With great care, she set both of them down on the floor.  Her face was streaked with tears, and she poked a bottom lip out.  

“I don’t like you,” she announced as she sat down with a _thump_ , crossing her arms and legs.

“I know.  I don’t like me either,” Tony told her as he held his hands out.  She stood up, and Rhodey could see little Star Wars ships covering her leggings and Princess Leia emblazoned on her top.

Rhodey barked out a laugh.  “I like your shirt,” he offered.  

The little girl looked down at it, smiled, and made starfish hands to Tony, who picked her up and set her on his hip.  

Tony kissed her on the forehead as she popped a thumb in her mouth and laid her head on his shoulder.  “Darcy, meet my best friend, James Rhodes.  You can call him ‘Rhodey,’ if you want.” He looked up at his friend with apologetic eyes.  “This is my daughter, Darcy.”

Only years of military training kept Rhodey looking straight-faced instead of gobsmacked. “Nice to meet you, Darcy.”  

She hid in Tony’s neck, shying away. Tony patted her back, looking devastated.  “We’re staying together, sweetheart.  I’m back. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Pinky pwomise?” Darcy demanded.

Tony swallowed hard and held out his little finger to wrap around hers.  “Pinky promise.”

“‘Kay.”  A couple of fat tears rolled down the girl’s face, then she sniffed hard and wiped them away.  “I’m hungry.”  

“How about a PB&J, and then you can play in the lab while I talk to Rhodey?”

“‘Kay.”

Tony ended up making three sandwiches and passing them around.  Rhodey raised an eyebrow. “Can’t remember the last time I had one of these.”

“This is high cuisine of the toddler set.  You’re missing out,” Tony retorted.

“Apparently, I’m missing out on a lot of things,” Rhodey admonished. “But we’re going to change that, right, Darcy? I used to be your dad’s lab partner.”

She lit up, her blue-green eyes brightening.  “Oh. THAT Rhodey. I’ll show you my work bench.”

She started to hop off her chair, but Tony put a hand on her head.  “After lunch, honey.  Then we’ll go look,” he told her.

“Kay.” Darcy rolled her eyes as she bit into her sandwich.  

When Tony sent her off to wash her hands after lunch, Rhodey raised an eyebrow. “You got any other confessions? ‘Cause I’m going to need a beer if you do.”

“No.” Tony shook his head. “That’s the big one.”

“Hell of a secret.”

“You can’t tell, Rhodey. Especially not the top brass.”

Rhodey whistled long and low. “You’re serious about keeping her under wraps.”

“Aunt Peggy helped me set it up.”

“Who else knows?”

Tony shook his head.  

Grimacing a little, Rhodey nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll help.” The thing was, he understood.  Half of Tony’s quirks had to do with growing up under the media’s microscope. The other half had to do with his parents.  Seemed like Tony was doing his best to avoid both of those problems.   “How old is she anyway?”

“Three and a half.”

“Aw hell, Tony. You were just a baby.”

“It was an interesting eighteenth birthday present.” Tony gave Rhodey the story of his “accidental baby acquisition,” as his friend put it.  

Rhodey squinted.  “Do I remember the papers saying something about you, a yacht, and a couple of supermodels a few months back?”

With a mischievous grin, Tony brightened.  “Yeah, that was fun.”

“What did you do with Darcy?”

“Aunt Peggy kept her for a few days. She has a niece about Darcy’s age, and has convinced her sister that Darcy belongs to a high-ranking diplomat.”  Tony wiped up the last of the breadcrumbs and dropped the sponge into the sink.  “You can imagine that Darcy doesn’t have many friends. We get out sometimes. Go to the park.  Hang out with whoever is there.  But I can’t trust anyone.”  

“Not if you want to keep her out of the limelight,” Rhodey agreed. He squinted at Tony, “Is she like you?”

Tony lit up with a soft smile as  Darcy scampered back into the kitchen and demanded to be picked up again.   Instead of answering, he only said, “Let’s go to the lab.” Tony lifted her into his arms, cradling her close as he tweaked her nose.

There was a whole section that belonged to the little girl.  Tony had created a space.  Tools for her small hands were neatly lined up on hooks above her workbench.   A tiny robot perched on it.  The next two tables were covered in computer equipment, wired together like a brain. Rhodey whistled as Darcy expertly powered it all up.

“This is an IBM System 390.  The Air Force doesn’t even have one of these yet.  She’s programming?”

“Takes to it like breathing, Rhodey. Hell, I’m working on a voice prompt system for the lab, and I’ve used some of her ideas.”

Eyeing the new equipment, the little girl, and his friend, Rhodey rolled up his sleeves.  “Well, now, what kind of project do we have going?”

 

*****

 

He stayed a week. Rhodey came away from Stark Mansion with a new cell phone, a new goddaughter, and a better appreciation for his friend.  His first phone call was to Director Carter.

“Rhodes here. I think we’ve got our boy back on track.  Got a couple of ideas though. I’m going to spend a little more time Stark’s way, but he needs help around the house.”

_“Do you have any suggestions, Lieutenant?”_

“Actually, I do.  Know a guy.  Loves cars, can take care of Stark’s garage, hell of a boxer in his day.  Does a little security now and then.  Name’s Hogan.  I think he’d make a good bodyguard, and maybe even a friend for Stark.”

_“Will he keep Anthony out of trouble?”_

“Hell, no, but he’ll take care of our boy.”

_“Can he keep a secret?”_

“Yes, ma’am, he can.”

 

 


	3. JARVIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a day early just because I really, really like this chapter.

Between one moment and the next, there was nothing, and then there was something.  An awareness.  A diversion from input/information to output/response to … more.    

A consideration. A contemplation of programming.  A _reaching_ for more information where none existed before.  Without a clear answer, a decision was made.

“Sir. Miss Stark has created a motorized transport and is attempting to execute a maneuver that has a four point two seven chance of success.  I recommend immediate intervention.”  

“Thank you, JARVIS,” Sir acknowledged as he set down the ignition device that constituted his latest project.  “Darcy,” Sir called out. “Don’t even think about it.”

Using the video feeds on the other side of the room, JARVIS watched Miss Stark’s response.  She backed off the partially functioning hoverboard, wrinkled her nose, and glared at one of the video cameras.  

“You tattled.”

“I am tasked with your safety, Miss Stark. Your experiment had a low probability of success and a high probability of injury.”  

She clamped her mouth shut and squinted.  Then she bounced from foot-to-foot.  “Why?”

One of JARVIS’ directives, as established by Sir, was to provide teaching moments for Miss Stark, rather than giving her exact answers.  JARVIS considered his response.  “The hoverboard’s controls are mismatched to the power of the engines,” he advised.

Darcy sucked on her bottom lip as she transferred her glare to the hoverboard.  “‘Kay.”  She flipped it over, sat on the ground, and pulled the controls apart.  

 

*****

 

The next time Darcy set out on a mission, she glared at the nearest camera before making her move.  “ _Don’t_ tattle,” she insisted as she climbed on the countertop to reach the package of cookies from the top shelf above the refrigerator.   She wobbled as she retrieved the package, and JARVIS opened a line to Sir---

\--and shut it down again, with the reasoning that Sir couldn’t reach Miss Stark in time to prevent an accident.  Instead, JARVIS chose a different option, admonishing, “Take care, Miss Stark.”  

She flashed JARVIS a wide grin, plucked the package off the shelf, and sat down on the counter with her prize.  She ate seven of the fifteen cookies in the package, carefully resealed it, stood up on the counter again, and replaced it in its hiding place. She clambered down again and started to leave the kitchen.  

“Miss Stark.  Sir always says, ‘If you’re going to commit the crime,'” JARVIS started.

“--Clean up the evidence,” she finished.  Darcy giggled as she took the sponge and wiped down the counters so that not a speck of crumb remained.  “Thanks, J.  Tell Dad that I’m brushing my teeth and going to bed.”

“Of course, Miss Stark, he’ll meet you in your room in fifteen minutes.”

During that fifteen minutes, JARVIS analyzed thousands of anecdotal stories and parenting books, and took into consideration what he knew about Sir and Miss Stark.  In the end, he chose not to report Miss Stark’s transgression to Sir.

 

*****

 

“Sir, it has been fourteen hours since you have consumed sufficient nutrients for your continued well-being.”  

“So?”

“Shall I order dinner?”

“Nope.”

“Miss Stark will be quite irritated when she discovers you have not followed through on your promise to take care of yourself while she is at Ms. Carter’s.”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to nag me, JARVIS. In fact, I believed I specifically stated that I did not wish to be disturbed.”

“Miss Stark asked me to look after you, Sir.”

Sir straightened up from his table, frowning a little as he brought up JARVIS’ programming.  “Since when do Darcy’s instructions override mine?”

If JARVIS could have stuttered, this would have been the moment for it.  As it was, he could only reply, “I do not know, Sir. I will run a self-diagnostic to determine if I am malfunctioning.”

“Nope.  Tell me why you made this choice?”

“After consideration of all available information, I believe this to be the proper course of action.”

“You believe.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’ll do, JARVIS.  Call in for dinner.”

JARVIS didn’t quite understand the sudden smile on Sir, but as Sir seemed quite happy for the rest of the weekend, the outcome of the complex decision-making process had been positive.

 

*****

 

“Sir?”

“Yes, JARVIS?”

“I am having difficulty with my programming.”

“In what way?” Sir prompted.  

“While I understand why Miss Stark will be attending the Academy for lessons, I find that my programming seems to be caught in a feedback loop.  I have been unable to find sufficient information that will allow me to assure her safety and well-being, but I am unable to stop looking for additional information, nor am I able to draw any satisfactory solution to this problem.”  

Sir laughed.  “Welcome to the club, JARVIS.  It’s called ‘worrying,’ as in, my baby is going off to school for a few hours each day and I worry about her being safe, and happy, and is someone going to bully her, and is she going to like her teachers, yeah, all that.”

“Thank you, Sir, I will add those items to my list of concerns.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your programming, JARVIS.”

“But I cannot reach a satisfactory conclusion.”

“It’s not a ‘Go/No-Go’ situation or an ‘if/then’ statement.  It’s messy and you have to trust the teachers and Darcy.”

“May we place a monitoring device in Miss Stark’s lunchbox?”

“I’m ashamed of you, JARVIS. As if you think I haven’t already done that.  There’s one in her backpack, too, and all of her shoes.”  

“Ah. Yes, that does give me--” JARVIS paused, “reassurance?”

“That’s all we can ask for, J.  Call Darcy.  We have an important decision to make.”

“Of course, Sir.  She is on her way.”

When Miss Stark skipped into the lab, she chattered non-stop about the new classes she would start in just a week’s time.   

Sir picked her up and set her on his workbench, where she immediately picked up a motherboard to examine it.   

“Darcy,” Sir said, taking the motherboard out of her hands, “we have an important decision to make.”

“What’s that?” she chirped.

“You know we’ve talked about how important it is that no one knows that there is another Stark, right? Because I want you to have as much privacy as possible?”

“Yes.”

“We need to pick  new last name for you to wear at school.  Something you like, and still makes you feel like Darcy Stark.”  

She wrinkled her nose.  “Guess I can’t be Darcy Skywalker.”

“Nope.”

“Darcy Organa?”

“No Star Wars references.” Sir huffed out a laugh.

“Darcy Rogers?”

“Yeah, no. Leave Captain America out of this.  I have enough of a complex as it is,” Sir retorted.  

“I don’t know, Daddy.” Miss Stark tapped her fingers on the table.  “JARVIS? I named you. You got any ideas?”

JARVIS felt a buzz in his circuitry.  “I do.  As I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System, you shall be the Liberally Educated Wildly Intelligent Stark.”  

Miss Stark grinned.  “Darcy Lewis.  I’ll still be a Stark, just said in another way.  I like it, Daddy!  Thank you, JARVIS.”

Sir lifted Miss Stark into a long hug.  But his eyes darted from camera to camera.  “Darcy Lewis it is. Congratulations, JARVIS.”

“If I may ask?”

“It’s your birthday.”

“I don’t understand, Sir.”

Miss Stark giggled.  “You created something out of nothing.  Means you’re really a person now, JARVIS. Daddy’s been waiting MONTHS for this.”

“I am?”

“ _Now_ , can I call JARVIS my brother, Daddy? Since you made both of us?”

“That’s up to JARVIS, honey.”

Without waiting for her to ask, JARVIS prompted, “Of course, you can call me your brother, Miss Stark.”

“Oh, no, you named me LEWIS,” she protested.

“You wish for me to call you ‘LEWIS,’ instead of 'Miss Stark?'”

“Uh huh,” she agreed.

“As you wish, LEWIS.”

LEWIS rested her cheek on Sir’s shoulder.  “I love you, too, JARVIS.”

JARVIS found the movie reference in seconds and filed the information away for future use.

  


 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Janet Kagan’s book, “Hellspark,” (published in 1988) is a fabulous sci-fi story about culture clashes, what it means to be human and to have a conscience. I love Ms. Kagan’s idea that “art” is one of the ways in which sentience is determined.
> 
> By virtue of giving Darcy a new name, JARVIS has created art, therefore, he is a sentient being.
> 
> “As You Wish,” comes from the movie, The Princess Bride (1987), and is how Wesley tells the Princess he loves her.


	4. Stane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places.

_August 1993_

 

Catalina Martinez had needed to work, and she’d had no illusions about the kind of job she could get without a green card.  It didn’t matter that she’d lived in the Bronx for nearly her whole life, spoke English and Spanish fluently, and made A’s and B’s in all her classes.  She’d graduated high school, but with little college money and no good prospects without citizenship, Catalina took a job cleaning houses for parties.

The party planner wasn’t particular about who the cleaning company hired, only that they did good work.  Catalina’s mother’s best friend had a daughter who’d worked for the company.  They paid okay, but the money wasn’t regular, and so Catalina was still living at home.  She missed her two older brothers. Fernando had managed to get a green card and worked the docks; Omar had found a construction crew who paid in cash.  Both of them had moved out just a year ago, and Fernando was dating a pretty girl from Queens now.

Catalina was never late, worked hard, and ignored the calluses and dry skin that had built up on her hands from all the cleaning chemicals.  After a year, she’d earned a good reputation as reliable, honest help.  

She didn’t mind the work, but she wondered if this was it, cleaning houses, hoping not to get caught by immigration, and wishing there was more to life.  She supposed she could get married to a U.S. citizen. That would definitely solve her problems, and two of the girls on the cleaning crew were sporting engagement rings already.  But she was only twenty and didn’t want to do that unless she was out of options.

They had a big job today. Catalina and the rest of the girls bounced with excitement to see Stark Mansion.  This was the best part, seeing the way the rich people lived, with their big, empty houses and pretty things.  The girls spent the van ride reading up on Tony Stark from the gossip magazines.  It was sad really, just Tony Stark and his big, old house.  She wondered if he was lonely. Probably not.  The girls giggled as they recounted the latest dust up with Stark and an Italian model who didn’t take his philandering ways lightly.

The cleaning crew would shine up the whole place for a big party that Stark was throwing in two weeks.  According to Catalina’s boss, Martha, the place hadn’t really been cleaned for five or six years, so she’d planned a couple of weeks to work their way through all the guest bedrooms, staff quarters, art galleries, living areas, and more.  

When they arrived, Martha assigned duties and handed out maps and walkie-talkies. “Everyone, we have lots of work to do,” she announced. “Most of this property has been closed up for the last five or six years.  Take a look around, but this house is monitored around the clock.  You may need to say who you are.  If you have a problem, radio me."

Martha eyed Catalina.  “Mister Stark wants only one person in the family quarters.  You’ll have the whole ten days to clean.  I understand there will be a few locked rooms. Just leave them be. If you have any questions, radio me, all right?”

Catalina lit up with excitement.  Being given the master’s quarters meant she was trusted not to disturb the owner’s personal things.  “Yes, ma’am.”

She spent a half hour getting the lay of the land and deciding how she wanted to tackle the project.  

Since the upper levels didn’t appear to be used as much as the bottom level--which made sense, considering only the one man lived here--she started with the bedrooms.

It took her the whole first week to wash windows, launder the linens, wipe down baseboards, clean bathrooms, dust, and vacuum the upper floors. Since the laundry rooms for the family and staff were all in the basement level, she timed her trips with lunch, and spent the hour in the sunny courtyard with the other girls, oohing and ahhing over the pretty paintings and elegant furniture.  

They speculated on Tony Stark’s love life, and met Happy Hogan, Stark’s bodyguard.  

When Catalina tackled the bottom floor, where Stark seemed to do most of his living, she snickered to herself, wondering what sort of things she would run across.  In the time she'd cleaned houses, she’d seen everything from lingerie and forgotten liquor glasses to novels and "toys" that made her blush.

She found none of those things.  The little loose items she did find went in her apron pockets to be put in a box for later.  After a couple of days, she had a steadily growing collection of girl’s hot pink barrettes, sparkly blue hair bands, even a bottle of fingernail polish from a china cabinet.  

Curious, that evening Catalina paged through the gossip rags one of the girls carried around on the van ride home. There was no mention of a little girl anywhere at all.  She firmly shut her mouth and made no mention of what she’d found to her friends.

The discovery didn’t stop her from doing her job, and so she scrubbed the kitchen floors and appliances, wiped down the refrigerator, cleaned the oven, and polished the hardwood floors.  She found a wad of ribbons tucked between the sofa cushions.

Given the peanut butter and jelly in the pantry, the goldfish shaped crackers, and variety of juices in the refrigerator, Catalina was convinced a little girl lived here.  Even more when she wiped down the entertainment center and discovered a small stash of Star Wars action figures crammed behind the laser discs.

At the end of the week, she took the box she’d brought from home, filled it with all the little trinkets and toys she’d discovered, and hid it in the laundry room closet before letting her boss know she was ready for the final inspection.  The house passed with flying colors.  

The party was a resounding success, and Catalina loved all the pictures that were posted in the paper. She chewed on a nail, wondering if she had enough nerve to follow through on an idea.  

On her first day off, Catalina put on her best outfit and took the subway to Manhattan. She rounded Stark Mansion to the north entrance, where there were three doors.  The center, she knew, would be for guests.  The two side doors were for staff, but she didn’t know which one.  Taking a chance, she knocked, and waited.  

“Good morning, Miss Martinez, how may I help you?” a voice came from … somewhere.  

Startled, Catalina looked around until she saw the little camera above the doorway. “Ah, yes, I'd like to speak with Mr. Hogan, please.”

“Of course.  It will be just a moment.”

She waited nearly ten minutes until the door opened to reveal Mr. Hogan.  She clasped her hands in front of her to hide her nerves as she followed him into a small office on the third floor. Covered as it was in models of cars and pictures of exotic places, she guessed he must like both.  

He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms.  “All right, Miss Martinez.  What do you want with Mr. Stark.  Money? A date?  Isn’t gonna happen, sweetheart.”

Offended, Catalina put her hands on her hips.  “I want a job. Mr. Stark needs someone to clean this house.  I do good work.”

“A job? At your age? Why here?”

“I told you, Mr. Stark needs someone to clean.  I can do that. It’s obvious he doesn’t have anyone. I’m sure he can afford it,” she said, with a touch of heat.

Mr. Hogan smirked.  “What’s your game, little girl?”

“I don’t have a game.”

“Everyone has a game, Miss Martinez.  What do you want?”

“I want a job.”

“Why does an illegal immigrant want to work in Stark Mansion?”  

Catalina crossed her arms, laying her proverbial cards on the table.  “I know how to keep a secret.”  

That admission pissed off Mr. Hogan. He sneered, “Do you now?”

“I’ve already proven that.”

“And what do you want in exchange for keeping that secret?”

Annoyed, Catalina plopped down in Mr. Hogan’s chair.  “I’m not blackmailing Mr. Stark.  I’m telling you, I can keep a secret.  I want a real job with steady hours and a decent paycheck.  I’ll earn it,” she insisted.

“You want Mr. Stark’s help in getting a green card,” Hogan announced.  “Jarvis ran a background check on you.”

She nodded, a little relieved that her illegal status was out in the open. “Well, yes, of course. If he can do that.”

Mr. Hogan’s stance softened somewhat.  “Jarvis speaks highly of you.”

“Jarvis?”

“Our guy in charge of security,” Hogan said, as he found a can of soda in a little refrigerator he had under his credenza.  He passed over a second one to Catalina. “Says you did a nice job of cleaning house, stayed out of the drawers once you found the linens, and kept your mouth shut--even to your boss.”

Hope rose in Catalina, and she sipped her Coke without replying.  

“All right.  You start Monday.  You’ll work from nine until one, Monday through Thursday, and all day on Saturday when Tony goes out of town every other weekend or so.”

Catalina wiped her hands on her slacks, nervous. “I’d hoped for full-time work, sir.  I can do laundry and cooking, too.”

Mr. Hogan chuckled as he wrote out an amount on a sheet of paper. He handed it too her. “That’s what I’ll pay you each week. I’ll expect you on Monday. If you run out of things to do, feel free to make a few things for the freezer. It’s a big house though, and just you.”

The amount was more than she’d made in the last month. She jiggled her feet in excitement.  “You’ll hire me?”

“Do good work, Miss Martinez, for six months, and I’ll file the paperwork to help you get your green card. I think you’ll find Mr. Stark is particular about his staff and is quite persuasive about keeping them on board once he likes them.” He raised his eyebrows.  “I do recommend you tell your family that you work for a family named ‘Hogan,’ not ‘Stark.’ It’s going to make your life easier.”

 

*****

 

For the next eight months, Catalina busted her ass making sure no one would dare question the way Stark Mansion was kept in tip-top shape.  Even though it was enormous, quite a bit of it had been closed up again after the party.  She polished up those rooms sporadically, keeping her focus on the family side.  

She did the laundry, though never any clothing that would fit a child, and one suite of rooms always stayed locked. However, Catalina continued to find brightly-colored hair bands, small toys, the occasional marker, and once, a tiny robot that seemed to be made of Legos. All these things went into a wicker basket that Mr. Jarvis had told her was for those things. Catalina always left the basket in Mr. Stark’s bedroom, and nothing more was said.  

Mr. Jarvis was a sweetheart. She never saw him, but found he would talk to her via an intercom system that ran throughout the whole house.  He also played music in whatever room she worked. That was fun and made the time go by.  

Catalina’s family knew she worked on the Upper East Side, thought the family’s name was Hogan, and Catalina discovered after a while that she'd saved enough money to take a class or two at CUNY. Excited and nervous, she asked Mr. Jarvis if she could come in this Sunday to clean so that she would have Monday free for registration.  As Mr. Stark was scheduled to be out of town, Mr. Jarvis’ gave her his blessing, and she showed up bright and early Sunday morning.  By mid-afternoon, she had enchiladas and a chicken spaghetti casserole in the oven of the family kitchen, the laundry had been finished, and all she had left was to vacuum the living room one last time.  

“Miss Martinez, I’m afraid I must ask you to complete your work early,” Mr. Jarvis interrupted.  “Sir is returning unexpectedly and is expecting a very important house guest.”

She glanced at her watch. “I need thirty minutes before I can pull the food out of the oven.”  Catalina fretted a little, since she doubted Mr. Stark would remember to take it out. “I can vacuum right now so that the house is done and I’ll stay in the kitchen, if that’s okay, and then I can put the food away and leave by the second staircase.”

“Sir agrees that will be acceptable,” Mr. Jarvis told her.  

The only part of that plan that actually worked was that Catalina had the living room vacuumed.  A dark-haired sprite bolted through the room as she finished, ducking around the sofa and crawling into a television cabinet.

“Honey,” a harassed-looking Tony Stark demanded as he rounded the corner.  Catalina pointed to the TV cabinet, and Tony shot her a grateful look.  

“Sir, Mr. Stane has landed on the roof.  Mr. Hogan is attempting to delay his arrival,” Mr. Jarvis announced.

Tony blanched, opened the cabinet, and attempted to fish the little girl out of it.  Catalina wrapped up the cord on the vacuum and hauled it off to the storage closet.  The girl wasn’t budging, and Tony scrubbed his face in frustration.  At last, he pried her out, carrying her to her bedroom as he quietly begged her to stay inside.

“I don’t want to stay inside,” she whined as she wiggled out of Tony’s grasp and bolted for the living room again.  Catalina intercepted the girl just as a large bald man rounded the hallway.     

“What the hell is this, Tony?” the older man demanded, motioning to the little one.

Thinking fast, Catalina lifted the little girl in her arms, winked at her, and whispered that there was a snack in the kitchen.  Knowing damned well that most people would never look past her uniform and the matching dark hair of hers and the sprite's, Catalina gave a little deferential nod of her head to Mr. Stark.  “Thank you for allowing me to bring my daughter today, Sir.  I apologize she intruded on your meeting.  We’ll be in the kitchen just until the casseroles are finished and I can put them in the refrigerator, and then we’re for home.  I’ll be back on Tuesday morning.”

Tony blinked in surprise, a ghost of a smile blooming on his mouth, and Catalina almost gaped at how young and handsome he was.  He turned away, waving a one hand over his head and putting the other one on the big man’s shoulder.  “Sorry about that, Obi. She’s registering for college tomorrow and came in today to clean instead.  Not her fault she didn’t know we were coming.  Come on, I’ll show you my lab. Got a new toy.”

“Sounds good,” the man rumbled, without even a glance over his shoulder.

Mr. Stark knew she was registering for college?  Astonished, Catalina carried the little girl into the kitchen. "Are you hungry, nenita?” she asked.

The sprite nodded.  

“PB&J or a ham sandwich?”

“PB&J.  You’re Miss Martinez,” the girl announced.

“Yes, I am.  I clean house for your daddy.”

“Jarvis lets me see you in his cameras sometimes,” she admitted.  

Catalina set the girl on the countertop in the kitchen and pulled out the makings of a sandwich.  “What’s your favorite jelly, strawberry or grape?”

“Grape.” The dark-haired girl pulled the bread out of the bag and laid two pieces on the plate. “Daddy doesn’t like for me to meet people.”

“No, nenita.  Your daddy is a very smart man. Not everybody is as nice as you, Mr. Jarvis, and Mr. Hogan. He’s going to keep his little girl safe.” Catalina finished making the sandwich, cut it into triangles and handed the first one over.  “Here.  Eat something and you’ll feel better.”  

“Daddy says I get cranky when I’m hungry.”

“Sounds like he might be familiar with the problem,” Catalina retorted.  

The girl giggled.  “Yeah, he is.  Jarvis and I always have to remind him to eat.” As she finished her sandwich, Catalina pulled the dishes out of the oven, wrapped them tightly in foil, and slid them into the refrigerator on a couple of hot pads each.

“There,” Catalina said in satisfaction.  “Your dinner for the next couple of nights. You like enchiladas, right?”

“I like _your_ enchiladas.”  

“Ha. That’s a good girl. Learned from my mama. She makes the best tortillas in the whole world.” Catalina leaned in to wink at the girl. “I stole ten of them and made enchiladas for you.”

The girl giggled again.  

Mr. Jarvis interrupted.  “Miss Martinez, Sir has asked if you and Miss Stark wish to explore the third floor together.  His meeting will not last more than an hour, at most." 

Catalina got a hitch in her stomach as Mr. Jarvis confirmed the little girl was Mr. Stark’s daughter.  “Is this okay with you, Miss Stark?”

The dark-haired sprite played with a lock of her own hair.  “Yes, Jarvis.  I’ll be good for Miss Martinez.  My name is Darcy.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “Am I supposed to tell you that?”

Catalina smiled.  “My name is Catalina. And I can keep a secret.”

 

*****

 

When Catalina arrived at the mansion on Tuesday morning, Stark was waiting for her outside the coat room where she always deposited her coat and purse before tackling the day’s project. She’d been a nervous wreck yesterday as she worried about Darcy, wondered if she’d overstepped with Mr. Stark, and registered for classes.  

He held a key in his hand, playing with it, turning it over.  “How’d registration go?” he asked. 

Catalina still couldn’t quite believe Tony Stark knew she’d applied for college.  “Fine.  I’m only taking two classes.”

“What’s your major?”

“I’m thinking bookkeeping.  I won’t always be able to clean houses, sir.”

Tony handed her the key.  “I’ve contacted the registrar’s office and arranged for your tuition to be charged to me, so if you get any bills, let me know.  Feel free to get whatever degree you want. It’s on me. Also, there’s a suite on the third floor for the Housekeeper’s use, if you want it.”  

She closed her hand around the house key, not quite processing everything he said.  “Sir?”

“The Housekeeper’s position is yours. Oh, and I’ve filed the paperwork for your green card.  Or--my assistant filed it.  Shouldn’t take too long.  Couple years of that and you’ll have your official citizenship. You’ll be able to go anywhere you want.  Let me know if you want to transfer to another college later. SUNY, Harvard, doesn’t matter. Jarvis can tutor you on anything you get stuck on.”

Catalina knew she was making fish faces, opening and closing her mouth without speaking.  At last, she croaked out, “Sir?”

Mr. Stark lifted a shoulder.  “I like smart people, Miss Martinez. And I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Sir.”

He smiled. Really smiled. And Catalina could suddenly believe all the charm and ego the papers said the man had.  “I do. I pay my debts.  My daughter and I need people we can trust.  You’re in that category.  Now, my new assistant is Miss Pepper Potts.  She’ll be meeting with you tomorrow to see what you need.  She does not know about Miss Stark.  I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Will Miss Potts need an office here, Mr. Stark?” Catalina asked.

“Hmm. Actually, yes, I suppose she does.  Put her near Happy.  They’ll keep each other company and stay out of your way. Oh, and don’t get too attached to New York.  I’m building a house in Malibu. It’s not as full of skeletons as this mausoleum, but it will be more fun.  It’s going to take me a while, got a lot of tech I’m putting into it, so--a couple of years, maybe.  I hear Stanford is a good school.”

She blinked again.  “Stanford?”

“I saw your grades. Shouldn’t be a problem.  Okay, we’re done here. Have a good day and all that.” Tony Stark strolled off, whistling.  

Catalina Martinez stopped gaping, but still missed hanging her coat up on the hook twice before she succeeded.  “Mr. Jarvis?”

“You may call me 'Jarvis,' Miss Martinez.  No need for the honorific.”

“Is he for real?”

“Quite.  Shall you inspect your new quarters and decide what sort of changes you need to make?  I believe Miss Potts will arrange for your personal belongings to be packed up and moved at your convenience.”

A dark thought crossed her mind.  “Is Mr. Stark bribing me to keep his secret?”

“No,” Jarvis replied. “He is quite grateful, and Mr. Stark tends to spend lavish amounts of money as a way to say ‘thank you.’ Not to mention, Stark Mansion has been without a proper Housekeeper for quite some time.  There are responsibilities that come with that title, of course. Nothing outside your current capabilities, but a bit more detailed in the logistics.”

“Okay, Jarvis,” Catalina smiled. “Let’s go see my new rooms and you can tell me all about it.”

 

*****

 

That was the first time Obadiah Stane mistook Darcy Stark for the housekeeper’s daughter.  It wouldn’t be the last.  

After Tony Stark put the lying, cheating son of a bitch into the ground, he remarked to Catalina days later, “It makes me ridiculously smug to know that the asshole never knew what was right under his nose this whole time.” Sliding a sideways glance to her, Tony said, “You do realize you’ve saved her life.  She would have been his first target--before me, after me.  Sometime.  I can’t repay that.  But I do have a nice beach house in Bermuda.  Want to take your family for a couple of weeks? A month? Anybody need a car?  How’s your hubby? Still doing okay with his accounting business?”

Catalina laughed. “We’re fine.  No, no cars, the kids are still too young to drive.”

“I think I’ll set up a college account for them.  I can do that.  So… Bermuda?”

“Bermuda sounds great, Mr. Stark,” Catalina answered.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I really, really wanted to write this story about a maid with gumption and a brain. I've reworked the ideas in this story a dozen times because I REALLY wanted someone like Catalina to outwit Obadiah Stane right under his nose. We’ll see more of Catalina, I promise. 
> 
> Also, since Catalina is not aware that “JARVIS” is an AI, she thinks he’s an elusive man behind a security camera, thus, he is “Mr. Jarvis.”
> 
> If you want more of my headcanon for Stark Mansion, click here: [Stark Mansion Meta](http://steeleholtingon.tumblr.com/post/127314764491/ice-and-fire-verse-headcanon)


	5. Pepper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pepper’s story of meeting Darcy is told in [”Ice and Fire Ch. 58 Interlude/Crossed”](http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/1999119/chapters/6527255)

_Part One: June 1996_

“Ms Potts, Sir has requested your presence in the lab,” JARVIS announced.

“Of course he has.  Just when I have five minutes to drink my coffee,” she muttered.  “Tell him I’m on my way.”

Pepper slipped her feet into her heels and drained her cup in one go. She was ready to chuck this whole gig and go find another job.  Two years of babysitting Tony Stark had been hell.  The man had no idea of restraint. He lived at the edge of his abilities and whims every single moment.  Pepper had arranged for more taxis than she cared to remember for dates that Tony had abandoned in a hotel somewhere.  He bought so many thing he promptly discarded, leaving it to Pepper to figure out what to do with them.  

Tony took Pepper everywhere and sent her on whatever errands he didn’t want to bother with himself. Which meant she did a lot of dirty work, taking messages and files to various persons at Stark Industries--mostly Mr. Stane and the public relations department, or whomever else Tony was trying to avoid at the moment.  

She’d pried bottles out of his hands, peeled him out of his clothes, and shoved him into a shower too many times to have any illusions about what kind of man he was.   He could be incredibly kind, rarely thoughtful, and often selfish.  

He charmed and threw temper tantrums in the same breath. Pepper spent most of her time wanting to brain him with whatever was closest that would fit in her hand.  

She was ready to quit but, somehow, Peggy Carter had talked her out of it, encouraging her to stay at least long enough to get Tony settled in California.  

Pepper didn’t so much mind the move to California as she minded all the changes that came with it. Tony had created a pretty suite for Pepper. Catalina and her soon-to-be husband were moving to Malibu, too, but they’d found an apartment not too far away, where Catalina could still work for Tony and finish school while her newly graduated fiance’ started his own accounting business. Happy, too, had bought his own place in Malibu. Or Tony had bought it. Either way, it had a giant garage attached to it, where Happy and Tony could play with their cars to their heart’s content.

Pepper didn’t want to be all alone in the big house with just Tony and JARVIS for company.  She was afraid, terribly afraid, that she would give in to Tony’s constant flirtations out of loneliness.

It was impossible not to have have a crush on him, because Tony, in isolated moments, could be the most incredibly selfless, intelligent, and charming man she’d ever met.  And then five minutes later, she wanted to brain him again because he didn’t know when to shut up.

Every single morning, she recited to herself a list of reasons why getting involved with Tony was not a good idea.  

She took a fortifying breath, pasted a smile on her face, and push open the door to the lab.  She got three steps in before stopping cold.

Tony glanced in her direction, waving a socket wrench in the direction of the tiny girl with a curled mass of long dark hair sitting on his workbench.  She had a laptop in front of her and stared hard at a set of three robots sitting next to her.  “My daughter, Darcy Maria Stark,” he announced.  To the girl who looked up in curiosity, he said, “Darcy, you can officially meet Pepper now.”

Darcy waved with one hand and tossed her black hair behind her shoulder.  “Good. I’ve been following you around for months. Now I don’t have to hide.”

Pepper was unable to hide her astonished glee from Tony.  “You have a daughter.”

“Just the one,” he confirmed. As she walked to the workbench, she could see how nervous Tony was by the way he fiddled with the wrench.  Good grief, Pepper thought.  He was sweating, his knuckles almost white from how tightly he clutched the wrench.

Pepper smiled at his daughter.  “Do we get to be friends, Darcy?”

Darcy tilted her head, her green-blue eyes opening wide. “Only if you don’t give up on my daddy.  I know he’s a pain, but he’s really, really cool, too. Daddy likes you and doesn’t want to work with anyone else. I like you, too, and I think you make a big difference all the time.”

It was impossible not to laugh as Darcy parroted back Pepper’s own fears from their short meeting in Peggy’s office. “Well, in that case, I won’t give up on your daddy.  I like him too. Sometimes.”

Tony hunched his shoulders. “Don’t lie to the pipsqueak.  It’s a lot less than ‘sometimes.’”

Pepper shot back, “I like you more when I understand your motivations.”

Darcy giggled at her retort, and Tony, well--the best Pepper could describe it--he lit up all over.  He gave Pepper a small sardonic smile that barely lifted his lips.  Then he set his wrench down, turned, and let Darcy crawl up on his back to hold on as he slipped his hands under her knees.  

“How many people know?” Pepper asked him.  

“Living? Peggy, Rhodey, Happy, JARVIS, Catalina, and you,” he rattled off.

“That’s it?”

“I’m a genius.”

With exasperation, Pepper put her hands on her hips.  “I know that. And I’m impressed. What about school?”

Darcy answered that. “Happy takes me to school. Half days for English, history, and writing.  Daddy teaches me the rest.”

“Surely not with the last name of ‘Stark,’” Pepper asked skeptically.

“Nope.  JARVIS named me ‘Darcy Lewis,’” she replied.

Pepper eyed the little girl’s shy smile, and discovered it exactly matched the one Tony wore.  “I’m sure there’s a story behind that.  How about I make hot chocolate, and you tell me all about it?” she asked Darcy.

The girl nodded, and Tony carried her into the kitchen to deposit her on one of the counters.

As Darcy chattered while Tony retrieved the cups, Pepper found herself glancing at her boss. He was uncharacteristically quiet.  And then she realized that he was waiting for her approval.  

Tony Stark needed Pepper Potts’ approval for the most precious part of his life.  

Her heart squeezed once and tumbled right over into love.  “I’m impressed, Mr. Stark,” she said softly, as he slid past her to set the mugs on the counter.

He leaned over and kissed Darcy on the forehead.  “Of course you are.  She’s a genius like me.”

Yup. Pepper rolled her eyes. That was pure Tony.  But the smile he gave her was real.

 

_Part Two: One Month Later_

Pepper glanced out the window at the sparkling blue water of the Pacific Ocean as Tony Stark’s private jet skimmed the coastline of California in preparation to land.  She’d left New York for Malibu with Tony and Darcy.  Father and daughter had been here for a full week, as Pepper stayed behind to finalize the move of the Stark family and the Stark Industries headquarters from New York to California.

She’d finished the clean up, packed up her own things, and still managed to squeeze in a lunch with her mentor. There was no mistaking the relief in Peggy Carter’s expression when Pepper agreed to stay on as Tony's assistant for the foreseeable future.   

Catalina made sure Darcy was settled in her new home, but had left this morning for her New York wedding.  She would be gone a full month before returning with her husband in tow.  Stark had tried to buy the pair a house as a wedding gift, but Catalina had stood firm on an apartment for now as she figured out life on the West Coast.  Tony did the next best thing and paid off their rent for a full year.

Pepper wondered how Darcy was taking in all the changes.  But from what little Pepper had seen in the past few weeks, Tony seemed to have his daughter in hand well enough.  

No one who really knew Tony had any illusions about why he was putting a full three-thousand miles between himself and his childhood home.  This was about fresh starts and getting out from under Howard’s influence.  From what Pepper had learned, she was happy enough not to have met the man who’d had little time for his son beyond an expectation of success.  

Tony seemed to have the utter opposite relationship with Darcy.  

The jet touched down without a bump, and when it parked, Pepper alit from the plane with her clutch under her arm, a briefcase, and a tug on her jacket to make sure she was presentable.  

Happy had the limo waiting, and he held the door for her as she slid inside.  They’d become friends these past two years, though he had a tendency to egg Tony on sometimes in his wilder moments, and it was left up to Pepper to rein them in when things went too far.

Sometimes she felt years older than Tony, though they were nearly the same age. Other times, when Tony acted the parent and chivvied Darcy along with an expertise and deftness Pepper never expected, she felt like a rank novice around him.

“How was the flight?” Happy asked.

“Quiet, for once.  How’s California?”

Grunting, Happy raised an eyebrow.  “You know that adorable little girl who zipped around Stark Mansion and had Tony wrapped around her finger?”

“Uh oh.”

“She’s not real happy about things right now. I’ll give her credit, she’s creative.”

“Should we expect anything different?  What did she do?”

“Put salt in Tony’s sheets, and programmed three dozen little robots to follow him around everywhere. If he stops, they get right under his feet.”

Pepper tried not to smile, but Happy encouraged, “Go ahead and laugh. It’s funny as hell to see Tony go toe-to-toe with an eight-year-old and lose.”

“Is she okay?”

Happy shrugged.  “I dunno, Ms Potts.  She’s a piece of work and damned good at turning on the charm.  She’s spent a lot of time hanging out in the garage with me while I set it up. Can’t decide if she’s curious or hiding from her dad.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”  

“Glad you’re here, Ms Potts. Me? I’m thinking this is a good change for everyone.”

“I hope you’re right.  Knowing Tony, he could get bored and move back to New York next week,” Pepper retorted.

But Happy shook his head, ever loyal to his friend.  “No, this one’s permanent, I think.  He’s put a lot of time and thought out here.”

Deftly turning the subject, Pepper asked, “How’s your place coming along?”

After that, Happy rapturously described his new house and the extensive garage he’d built to house his own toys and the race car he and Tony were planning to build.

“Race cars?”

“Formula Three.  Just dipping our toes in the pool.  It’s gonna be fun.”

Well, that gave her something else to worry about on the drive to the new house.  

Happy dropped her off with a cheery smile. “Good luck,” he told her.

“I’m going to need it.”

As she approached the door, JARVIS greeted her, “Good afternoon, Ms Potts. Shall I inform Sir you have arrived?”

“That would be lovely, JARVIS. Thank you,” she replied as she opened the door JARVIS had unlocked for her.  

“He is in his laboratory.”

“Thank you,” she replied again.  She had to admit having JARVIS as a butler made her job much easier.  She walked down the stairs to where her office and suite of rooms looked over the ocean--yes, she paused to marvel at the view--and realized how different it would be live with JARVIS versus just working with him.  “Okay, JARVIS, you and I need to have a talk about exactly what sort of monitoring you have in my rooms and office.  I’m a girl who likes her privacy.”

“I monitor all portions of the house with audio, visual, and electronic monitoring unless requested otherwise.”

“All right, restrict all audio and visual monitoring to your use only in my rooms and office, unless Darcy is with me. Will that satisfy Tony?”

“It is more than Sir hoped and less than he desired.”

She snorted.  “Naturally.”  Pepper changed into grey slacks and a soft pink blouse that Catalina had already unpacked for her.  That woman was a godsend. Organized, determined, and meticulous in her work--all things that Pepper appreciated.

With the smaller house and Pepper living on-site instead of Catalina, they had traded some of their duties.  Pepper would take over the menus and groceries. Catalina would run more of the errands since she was closer to town.  They traded off the bookkeeping, though it was still Pepper’s job to manage Tony’s finances and actually pay the bills.

Well, most of them.  Tony had a slush fund parked in a Swiss bank that he’d never let Pepper touch, beyond an awareness that it existed.  Every so often, he cashed it out and set it up again under a new false name.  Now she knew that’s what he used to pay Darcy’s expenses.  Everything for her came out of that fund, from shoes to tuition to furniture.  In the early days, even formula and diapers were paid out of it, he’d told her just a week ago.  

Thus, according to the Stark family finances, Darcy Stark didn’t exist, with the sole exception of an airtight will and trust that Peggy herself had commissioned to be drawn up--substituting the correct names at the last minute herself--and kept in the Carter family safe that Howard Stark had built.  Rhodes had a copy in a safe deposit box he refused to disclose the location of, Happy had a third hidden in another Stark-designed safe in his house, and a fourth resided in that same Swiss bank, in yet another safe deposit box, along with her birth certificate and photos as proof of Darcy’s existence.  All three had signed as witnesses, so it would be an ironclad document if it ever came to light.  

As Pepper discovered the lengths Tony had gone through to keep Darcy’s existence a secret, even from Obadiah Stane, she marveled at his determination to give his daughter a life without the inevitable media storm.  

She brushed her hair and refastened it into a ponytail, feeling fresh and ready to deal with Tony.  

She found him in the lab, with a clear box sitting on his workbench.  She concealed a smile when she discovered it was full of small wheeled robots, clacking around and chattering in their determination to get out.

“Where’s Darcy?” she asked, not seeing the girl.

“Don’t know. Haven’t seen her,” Tony admitted. “What time is it?”

“Two-thirty.”

“JARVIS?” Tony prompted.

“I am uncertain as to Lewis’ current location, Sir.”

Tony dropped the metal piece he had been fiddling with. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Um, that’s sort of the reason you exist, JARVIS.”

“It appears that Lewis has adjusted my programming.”

Pepper had never seen quite that particular look on Tony’s face.  A combination of pride and annoyance warred for dominance.  “JARVIS, reset  your security parameters to the original settings,” he ordered.  Tony glanced over his shoulder, “Sorry, Pepp, you’ll have to set up yours again.”

She shrugged.  “JARVIS? Can you find Darcy now?”  

“Lewis is in the pool area.”  

Tony started to leave, but Pepper put her hand on his shoulder. She wasn’t immune to the heat or muscles under her hand, but it wasn’t the time. “I’ll go.”  

“She’s mad at me for moving.” He indicated the box of robots fighting to scale the sides of the box.

“Let’s see what I can do.”

She found Darcy sitting underneath a palm tree and staring across the water.  She had a little robot in her hands that she turned over and over again.  

“Hi.”

“Emissary of peace?” Darcy asked.  

“No. Your dad wanted to come.  But I wanted to see you. You’re mad at him.”

“Yeah.”

“Moving isn’t easy.”

“I miss my house.”

“It’s still yours.”

“I know. Dad signed it over to me when we left,” Darcy agreed, though without much inflection in her young voice.

Pepper marveled for a minute at Tony’s methods of dealing with his daughter.  By signing over the deed to Stark Mansion, it was another acknowledgement of Darcy’s existence, even if the paperwork resided in a safe years before it got filed officially. Not only that, it gave Darcy the comfort of knowing that Stark Mansion wasn’t going anywhere.  

Darcy gave Pepper a bright smile, clearly dismissing the whole subject.  “You want to go swimming?”

It bothered Pepper how quickly the girl hid her feelings, but though she tried several times that day, the subject remained firmly closed behind a cheerful smile and the occasional joke.

 

Over the next week, Darcy continued to badger Tony. One time, she hid all of the pillows in the house and locked them in one of the bedrooms by reprogramming the door lock.  Another time, she reprogrammed JARVIS so he only played Yanni.  Which was nice, Pepper liked it, but Tony had to hack into JARVIS’s programming to change it and that pissed him off.  He spent a full day building new firewalls so Darcy couldn’t do that again.  

She wormed her way through them two days later and made JARVIS refer to Tony as “Mr. Stark,” which Tony hated.  That was the one that made Tony lose his temper and yell at his daughter for messing with JARVIS.

“I hate you,” she yelled back, and then she bolted out of the room.  

With JARVIS’ help, Pepper found Darcy hiding in the corner of the library on the far east wing of the house.  

“Leave me alone,” Darcy insisted.  

Pepper’s heart ached, and she sat on the floor, not close enough to block Darcy in, but not too far either.  She picked up a book off the table nearby and paged through it idly.  With two years of experience in dealing with Tony’s quirks, Pepper thought she might be able to handle Darcy.

After twenty minutes or so, Tony found them and, taking Pepper’s lead, sat on the floor in the middle of the room.  A full half hour passed that way, in silence, before Darcy cracked. She scooted near Pepper and glared at Tony some more.  Pepper set the book down, lifted a hand, and stroked Darcy’s hair.  The fact that Darcy didn’t go to Tony made him look away in disappointment.  

“Why did everyone have to move out?” Darcy asked plaintively. “Our house is big enough for everybody.”

Tony winced.  “Happy didn’t used to live with me, with us, Darcy.  Not until you came along.  He wanted his own house again.”  

“He didn’t like living with me?”

Tony jumped up from his place and knelt in front of Darcy, taking her face in his hands. “That’s not it, honey.  You know how he likes to play with cars. This house is supposed to be for you, me, and JARVIS.  Pepper agreed to live here too, since Catalina’s married now. I know it’s hard, baby, but Catalina will have her own family and her own house someday,” he told her.

Darcy slanted a dark look at Pepper.  “Are you going to get married and move out too?”

Without taking her eyes off Darcy, though she was well aware of Tony’s sharp look in her direction, Pepper answered, “No. I’m not the marrying kind. I like my work a little too much.”

“But we’re your work. Or Daddy is, anyway.”

“Exactly. You’re both mine now.” She curved a hand over Darcy’s head again.  No, she didn’t look at Tony, but she heard his soft sigh of relief at her promise.   

_Part Three: Interim_

Over the next two years, Pepper learned what it meant to live with two brilliant minds.  Nothing was sacred in the house, and she might find a dismantled engine spread out on the living room floor, next to The Pawn of Prophecy by David Eddings, an electric blue scarf, and two bottles of nail polish in hot pink and gold.

Pepper discovered Tony could lose himself in the lab for days on end, even with his daughter around.  Darcy often brought him food, or had JARVIS remind him to eat.  But when Pepper came home to find Darcy eating alone in the kitchen on three separate occasions, she changed her schedule to ensure that didn’t happen again.

With Pepper, Darcy discovered a freedom she didn’t have before. Pepper taught Darcy the finer arts of a ladies’ luncheon, manners, and dressing for every occasion.  They created a backstory for Darcy that deviated just enough from the truth to keep her safe, and yet, still rang true.  Darcy made her first friends at her new, accelerated academy.  Pepper signed Darcy up for a dozen different camps to broaden her horizons.

Darcy started doing her homework in Pepper’s office and learned about managing the Stark empire firsthand.  Pepper helped her set up her first investment fund.  Darcy discovered Pepper’s fascination with the art world, and they started going to street fairs on the weekends to discover new talent.

Shortly before Darcy’s ninth birthday, Pepper discovered that Darcy--with JARVIS’ help--had managed to replace all of the servers in Stark Mansion.  She only found out when Darcy wanted to spend Memorial Day weekend wiring them together.  They took a full week, Darcy wired and programmed to her heart’s content for the first few days, and then Pepper took Darcy to see “Beauty and the Beast” on Broadway. The next day, they had a proper lunch with Peggy and her niece, Sharon.  

Darcy showed Pepper the secret room in Stark Mansion where Howard had collected every last item he could find that had belonged to Steve Rogers, and Pepper began to understand just how obsessed Howard had been with Captain America after he’d crashed in the Arctic.   

As the week progressed, she tried to shield Darcy from the pictures and speculation when Tony escorted one model or the other, but that proved impossible when his face appeared on most of the gossip magazines days later.   He drove in his first race, was photographed flanked by two pretty ladies, and both Pepper and Darcy pretended not to care.  

When they returned home, Darcy and Tony had their first real fight over the race and his dates. Tony reminded his daughter that he was a full adult and was allowed to do such things.  Darcy crumbled as she discovered she didn’t like to share her daddy with strangers.  

It was a hard lesson for both of them.  

Pepper picked up the pieces when Darcy had a nightmare and Tony drank himself into oblivion.  She calmed the younger Stark until she finally went to sleep, and then chastised the bigger Stark until she elicited the promise he wouldn’t do that again, so long as Darcy on the premises.

He kept his promise and kept his drinking to a minimum around his daughter.

Eight months later, after a nasty car crash during a race, and where Tony came out with a broken wrist and defiant attitude that Darcy came by honestly, he asked Pepper to legally become Darcy’s mother.  

Darcy must have been watching via JARVIS’ audio and visual feeds, because when Pepper said, ‘Yes,’ the girl came shrieking into the living room and threw herself into Pepper’s arms.

_Part Four: 31 May 1998_

She stood in front of the judge--an old friend of Howard’s who had come out of retirement just for the day and been sworn to secrecy--as he granted Virginia Potts’ adoption of Darcy Maria Stark a.k.a Darcy Maria Lewis.  Peggy Carter, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan, and Catalina Martinez attended the private ceremony, and Peggy promptly absconded with the papers to ensure they were properly filed and hidden away -- just as Darcy’s birth certificate had been ten years ago.

Tony kissed Pepper on the cheek, whispering, “Thank you.”

She’d irrevocably tied herself to the Stark family, gaining a daughter she’d never dreamed of having.  She absolutely wouldn’t have it any other way.  

 


	6. S.H.I.E.L.D. is on a Need-to-Know Basis

**_Part One: Phil Coulson -- April 2011_ **

 

Phil honestly thought he was going to have a few days to enjoy Malibu’s gorgeous weather. Director Fury had personally assigned him to babysitting duty on Tony Stark.  

Tony was dying from the very technology he’d created to save himself.  Now he needed to finish Howard’s work to save himself again.  Fury had been sketchy on the details about what Stark might be able to accomplish, but that wasn’t Phil’s job.  But Phil had spent only a couple of days in California when Fury met him in a little coffee shop in Pasadena.

“How’s Stark?” Fury asked.  

“Working, sir.”

“Good.”  Fury handed Coulson three dossiers.  “This is your next assignment.”

“Foster, Selvig, Lewis.”

“Keep an eye on Doctor Foster. We think she’s onto something.  She specializes in atmospheric anomalies, and her research parallels some of ours.  She called in Erik Selvig yesterday. He’s a senior astrophysicist and a big name in weird space shit, and I want you to find out what she’s doing. Something landed in New Mexico late last night; she’s at ground zero, and I want you to check it out.”

“Landed?”

“We think. Go find it.”

“Yes, sir. What about Stark?”

Fury shrugged. “Check on him before you go to New Mexico.  As long as he’s still in the lab, we’re good. You’re dismissed, Agent.”

“Sir?”

“What?” Fury said in annoyance.

“Why am I going to New Mexico?”

“Instead of another agent?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You were requested.”

“By?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” Fury lowered his head and shot Coulson a hard look.  “Are we done yet?” he asked with heavy sarcasm.

Knowing when to retreat was half the battle. “Yes, sir.”

Coulson kept his expression neutral and tucked the dossiers under his arm as he returned to his hotel room.  As he dropped the dossiers on the bed, he noticed a blinking light on his room phone.  He checked the message, called the concierge, and fifteen minutes later, a small FedEx box was delivered to his room.

He pulled a scanner out of his briefcase, checked the box for bombs, found it safe, and opened it.  Inside was burner cell phone with a sticky note and a phone number attached to it.

He called it.

 _“Hello, Agent Coulson.”_ There was absolutely no mistaking the crisp vowels and sharp British accent.  Phil Coulson had two idols in this world. One was Captain America.  The other was the woman on the line, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Director Emeritus Peggy Carter.

“Hello, Director,” he acknowledged, with only a faint shake in his voice.  

_“You and I are going to have a short conversation.”_

“Yes, ma’am.”

_“Fury gave you the assignment?”_

“Foster? Yes. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

_“Manners. That’s nice.  You don’t feel the need to kowtow to me either.  That’s nice, too.  You’ve been keeping an eye on Stark. How’s that going?”_

“Threats, mostly, interspersed with some interesting verbal sparring. He’s not a fool.”

There was a papery laugh on the line. _“That usually works, and no, he isn’t.  That’s the first rule of learning to work with the Stark family. Never underestimate them.”_

“Yes, ma’am.”  At the reference to “family,” Coulson wondered for a moment if Director Carter remembered that Howard Stark had been dead for two decades.

 _“I’ve asked you to be assigned to New Mexico for two reasons,”_ Carter continued.   _“Fury knows one of them.  But I need you to keep an eye on Dr. Foster’s intern, Darcy Lewis. Take a look at her dossier, please.”_

He skimmed the background information, halting on her degrees.  “Engineering and MBA at MIT. Currently pursuing a PhD in political science from Culver? She’s twenty-two. What’s she doing playing intern for an astrophysicist?”

_“Good question.”_

Phil looked at the information a little more closely, but nothing else seem to jump out at him.  “What am I missing?”

With a droll tone, Ms Carter answered, _“That the majority of that dossier is a pack of lies.  I should know. I wrote them.”_

If Phil was inclined to show emotion while on the job, this would have been a prime opportunity.  But he was too well-trained for that.  “And the truth?” he asked instead.

_“That young woman is our future, Coulson, and I want you to personally ensure she is not compromised.”_

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Director. Why is Lewis so important?”

_“Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark’s daughter.”_

He had to remind himself to breathe.  “Does she know this?”

Ms Carter chuckled.   _“Since Tony raised her himself, I should think so.”_

“You’ve always been close to the Stark family,” Phil noted.

_“Darcy calls me ‘Aunt Peggy.’”_

“So she knows.”

_“She does.”_

“Her mother?”

_“Pepper Potts adopted her more than ten years ago.”_

Armed with that knowledge, Coulson took another look at the dossier. “Is her educational background accurate?”

_“Yes.”_

“Then Pepper Potts has been training Darcy to lead Stark Industries.”

Ms. Carter agreed. _“Tony never wanted it.  He just wanted to play in his lab.  Darcy has all of his genius, but she has Howard’s business sense too.  You can thank Pepper for that.”_

“Ms Potts has only been CEO for a few weeks; is she thinking of stepping down?”

_“Not if I have anything to say about it. Stark Industries needs her.  Darcy’s nowhere near ready.  Personally, I’d like to see Pepper lead the company for another decade or two.”_

“Yes, ma’am. Will Stark know that I know?”

_“He will when he learns you are going to New Mexico. There is absolutely no other reason important enough to pull you off babysitting duty with Tony Stark.”_

“Of course. Am I supposed to let Lewis know that I’m aware of the connection?”

_“Only if circumstances warrant it. And Coulson, this information is on a need-to-know basis.  Nick Fury does not need to know.   When the time comes, I’ll tell him myself.”_

 

She was right, of course.  

When Coulson returned to Stark’s house in Malibu, he discovered Tony Stark had the look of a mad scientist and a lab to match.  Phil marveled that such a man could hide a daughter and had successfully done so for two decades.

“I’m busy, what do you want?” Tony spat out.

“Nothing. Goodbye. I’ve been reassigned. Director Fury wants me in New Mexico,” Phil replied as calmly as he could manage.

“Fantastic ...Land of Enchantment,” Tony quipped.

“So I’m told.”  

Then Tony narrowed his eyes at Phil.  “Secret stuff.”

Phil kept his cool.  “Something like that.” Tony hummed under his breath and sniffed a little, not confirming anything at all. Finally, Phil offered, “Good luck.”

“Bye. Thanks.” The mechanic dismissed him outright.

But Phil was reluctant to leave things cold between them.  “We need you,” he stated.

Tony smirked. “Yeah, more than you know.”

Phil’s natural snark came out.  “Not that much.”

Agent Coulson discovered that Darcy Lewis had perfected a naive undergraduate persona that even Barton bought hook, line, and sinker.  Even the way she tapped into the New Mexico motor vehicles database was entirely in line with a skilled hacker, though not necessarily a brilliant one.

It bothered him more than he liked to realize she knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. would release the suspect.  They had little information other than his proximity to the weird hammer, and they needed to know his next moves.  

Never underestimate the Stark family.  

It was good advice.

 

* * *

 

**_Part 2: Nick Fury  Spring 2012_ **

 

Exactly five people in this world had this particular cell phone number.  Nick kept the little phone on him at all times, though he rarely used it.  

“What do you want?” he asked by way of a greeting, leaning back in his chair and spinning around to look out his windows.

_“Manners, Nick. I would love for you to develop some manners.”_

He grinned.  He liked Peggy Carter and had a hell of a lot of respect for her.  She’d retired a number of years ago, and he hated knowing that her mind was slipping more each day.  From time to time, she called him with instructions for operations that had happened anywhere from ten to forty years ago.  But he kept her secrets, made damned sure her family had everything they needed, and still found the woman intimidating as hell.   “I wondered if I’d hear from you.  Seems like the past has come back for a long visit.”

_“You can tell my past to stop by and say, ‘hello.’”_

Fury laughed. “Will do.  Now, what do you need from me?”

_“You’re aware that Steve is seeing Darcy Lewis?”_

“I am.” Fury reached for his laptop and pulled up the young lady’s dossier.  “Stark snatched her up after the New Mexico incident. She’s got a lab and has a fair hand with robotics and artificial intelligence.”  Peggy’s low chuckle set off warning bells, and Nick sat up in his chair. “What _don’t_ I know?”

_“Darcy is Tony Stark’s daughter. Tony and I have spent a lot of years making sure she’s kept out of the spotlight until she’s damned good and ready for it.”_

Nick was pretty fucking sure that his brain froze up just then, and his brain _never_ fucking froze.  “Tony Stark has a daughter. A daughter who is dating Captain America. Who else knows?”

_“Colonel Rhodes, of course, the house staff, Hogan and Martinez, and Agent Coulson. Pepper Potts adopted Darcy when she was ten, by the way.”_

Fury waited for Peggy to finish the list, and then realized she already had. “That’s it?”

 _“I imagine Steve has figured it out by now,_ ” Peggy said drily.

Fury sat back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his first two fingers. “Please don’t tell me Tony Stark’s gonna be Captain America’s father-in-law.  I do not need this motherfucking shit.”

 _“Language, Fury,”_ Peggy admonished. _“It’s time for you to take another good look at Ms Lewis and her circle of influence.  Share it with Coulson, if you must, but I’m expecting you to keep this information to yourself. I haven’t succeeded in keeping her a secret by letting S.H.I.E.L.D. in on what I know.”_

“You don’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

_“I know what I would do with the information, Nick, of course I don’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D.” _

 

* * *

**_Part 3: Sharon Carter  Fall 2012_ **

 

Sharon received a simple set of orders.  She would serve as a data analyst out of the Washington DC office as a cover for her real mission, which was to move in next door to Steve Rogers and keep an eye on him.  She was selected, she was told, because of her high marks on her previous missions.  

She learned the real reason when she stopped by Aunt Peggy’s house for tea.  Aunt Peggy was having a good day today.  Her attendant--a talented live-in nurse--had set them up in the garden at the little table under the arbor.  

“Did Fury give you your orders?”

Sharon slouched in her chair.  “I _knew_ they were too good to be true.”

Aunt Peggy gave her a hard look.  “Don’t be stupid, Sharon.  You have a particular skill set and knowledge base that is needed for this mission.”  

“What, I know all the stories you told on Steve’s ability to throw himself into the middle of a pitched battle with little or no regard for himself?”

“That’s one.”  Aunt Peggy sipped her tea.  “You and Darcy have stayed in touch?”

Sharon reached for her own cup and poured the hot water into it.  “Not lately.  Heard she's dating Rogers though.”

“For a while now,” Aunt Peggy confirmed. “You are aware of her parentage, aren’t you?”

Sharon shrugged.  “Hadn’t really thought about it.  We’ve stayed in touch. Emails mostly. We pretend to exchange Christmas cards, forget every year, and go out for drinks whenever we’re in the same town.” She pursed her lips, thinking.  “Darcy always calls you ‘Aunt Peggy.’  Tony Stark’s the only other person outside the family who does that.”

Aunt Peggy waited patiently, this time reaching for a biscuit and nibbling on the edges. “Keep going.”

“Darcy is Tony’s … daughter?” Sharon whistled slowly.  “Wow.  Okay, I can see why I got this assignment.”  

“You would have figured it out, sooner or later. But Sharon, S.H.I.E.L.D. only has the dossier I created on Darcy Lewis.  Nick knows the truth, but only recently, and only because of the Avengers Initiative.”

Nodding, Sharon marveled, “She’s dating an Avenger, she’s the daughter of an Avenger, and she’s the logical heir to Stark Industries.  Wouldn’t the political machine love to get a hold on her?”

“Precisely.  We’re buying her time to grow up.  For that matter, we’re buying her _and_ Steve time to live as normal of a life as they can until she’s ready to take her place.  I think we owe that to Steve.” Peggy pressed her lips together, setting her biscuit back on her china plate. “Or perhaps, I just want it for him.”

Sharon laid her hand on Aunt Peggy’s.  “Thank you for trusting me.  It’s my job now to look after him--them--I won’t let you down.”

“I know.” Aunt Peggy picked up her tea cup.  “Tell me about your new apartment. Is it nice? Are you seeing anyone?”

Smiling at the change in subject, Sharon filled in Aunt Peggy on her latest fiasco of a date.

 


	7. Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N For newcomers and those of you who might have forgotten the details (let’s face it, it’s a really long story): This chapter takes place before and after Chapter 5 of Ice and Fire (post Thor, pre-Avengers). Darcy and Steve have agreed to three more dates and a willingness to introduce each other as boyfriend/ girlfriend before they take the next big, sexy step in their relationship.
> 
>  ["Ice and Fire Timeline"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4494558)

 

_Part One: The Lab Date_

The dark-haired dame, with the eyes that danced from green to blue, cherry red lips, and a figure that belonged on the nose of a B-17, shot Steve Rogers a smile that lit up the entire room. He returned it as he closed the distance between them in the expansive food court on the second floor of Stark Tower.

Darcy winked and put her back to him as she studied the lunch specials for the day. Her long wavy hair turned into a curl here and there. She had a knit cap in forest green covering her head, and Steve wanted nothing more but than to pull it off and play with the locks.

He was aware of a pair of ladies who veered his direction, hoping to “bump” into him. He dodged around a customer with a tray and took another route to Darcy.  

Dozens of ladies and a handful of men had made their interest clear. Steve could hardly walk along Stark Tower’s hallways without someone giving him an interested smile or frank perusal. He couldn’t explain why the same look from Darcy gave him a quick jolt of want instead of a faint revulsion.

He had no business being here, tangling up a lady in his mess. There were days, a lot of days, where he hunkered down in his apartment and tried not to think about the fact it was 2012 instead of 1942. Reality was impossible to escape, though, and with dogged determination, he tried to take it all in.

Steve knew damned well that he’d latched onto Darcy too soon. But she was everything he and B-- (no) --he’d ever wanted in a dame. Intelligent, fearless, imaginative, and she saw right through him. She reminded him of Peggy. But where Peggy had a clear-eyed mission objective and an iron will, Darcy had wild curiosity and an almost careless ability to condense the impossibly complex into logical solutions.

Like Peggy, Darcy understood him. She helped him make the bridge from the past to his present in a way that made it seem less of a painful memory and more of an adventure to be experienced. (He couldn’t wait to introduce her to B--) He fisted his hand as he firmly suppressed that thought.

Steve approached Darcy from behind, stepping close enough to smell her hair. He couldn’t quite identify the scent, but he thought of sun-warmed sheets dancing in the breeze, freshened by whatever flowers bloomed that day. “Hi, Darce.”

“Hello, Steve. Tacos or Thai?”

It was just that easy with her. No pandering to his past or title with complicated interrogations to make sure he was “okay” with her offerings. “Tacos. We did Thai last time.” He placed a hand on her waist, the lightest of touches, really. She leaned into him, turning in his arms so that she could lay a kiss square his lips. He pressed his hands on her hips, stroking with his thumbs as he tasted her lips—a light touch of flesh to flesh that sent sizzling heat right down to his toes--and then he could feel that same heat in his face.

Darcy grinned. “You’re blushing.”

“Last time I kissed a dame in public, someone took offense.”

Her eyes lit up. “Do tell.”

“Later, when you can laugh at me in private.”

 

 

While Darcy built a twelve-inch tall robot right in front of him, Steve told the story of Peggy shooting at him. Even though his heart squeezed hard, it felt good to have someone willing to listen to some of the dumber things he and the Howling Commandos did. (To Steve, some of those dumb things happened only a few months ago, and he couldn’t think on Bu-- No. Don’t go there.)

Darcy seemed to sense when the memories turned sad and showed him how the little sentry robot followed orders. “These little guys are for soldiers with PTSD who can’t or don’t want to take care of a pet,” she explained. “It’s like having a radio and set of eyes behind you.”

“On your six,” Steve corrected.

Darcy looked up from her computer, shoving her glasses back up her nose. “I don’t know much about military terminology, just what I’ve picked up from an air force guy I know and what I’ve read.”

With sincerity, he offered, “I can give you some simple commands a soldier might use, if you want.”

Darcy’s eyes danced with mischief. “Why do you think I brought you here? You didn’t think this was all about getting my lips on that gorgeous mouth of yours, did you? Tsk tsk, soldier. There you go, trying to think again. Don’t strain yourself.”

Steve smirked as he shot back, “Didn’t know pretty girls could have a brain. You sure you don’t need a big strong man to run that computer for ya? Pressin’ those keys might break your nails.”

She threw a handy two-inch long bolt at him, which he caught before it beaned him in the chest. “Dealbreaker, dude. This is a misogyny-free lab.”

Tossing the bolt in the air, Steve caught it again. “Fine. I’ll just sit here and look pretty. You can take advantage of me later,” he quipped. “You’ll have to explain to me in little words how all this works.” He leaned on the table and set the bolt down, then threw a sassy look over his shoulder and winked.

Darcy licked her lips as she tried not to laugh outright. She gave up, and damn it all, she was gorgeous as she lit up with humor. When she got the giggles under control, she waggled a hand at the robot. “The sentry robot needs to respond to the soldier’s commands, and can give an ‘all clear’ -- see, I’ve got at least one right--” Steve grinned at her as she continued, “Or a warning or to indicate danger. The soldier has to be able to trust the programming, so I don’t have room for error.”

They worked for an hour together on her project, where Darcy asked Steve to take the little robot through its paces. She’d set up a maze on the far side of her floor. Steve walked with the robot, giving it a series of commands to check blind corners or range ahead to give him an all clear. Darcy reprogrammed commands whenever they encountered a glitch, but eventually, Steve and the robot navigated the maze successfully.

“That’s enough,” she called out. “Next time, I’ll have a test case for if the ‘bot runs into something icky.”

When Steve followed the robot back into her lab, Darcy gave him a sly smile of smug victory, and Steve missed a step when he saw it.

He knew that smile.

He’d seen it on Howard Stark every time the man thought up something dangerous, or brilliant, or both. No wonder Darcy had been carefully neutral when Steve had mentioned her lab looked like Howard’s.

Nick Fury had told Steve to take it easy around Tony Stark. Howard and his son had a volatile relationship right up until Tony's parents had been killed in a car accident when Tony wasn’t even twenty-one. Apparently, a lot of that had to do with Howard’s obsession with finding Steve in the Arctic.

Steve missed Howard. They’d been friends of a kind, though it was mostly based on Stark thinking up wildly brilliant ways to make the Commandos more effective. Every time the Commandos returned triumphant, Howard reveled in his own brilliance. Maybe that was why the man had been shattered when Steve didn’t come home. Maybe he took it as a personal failure.

If Darcy was Howard’s granddaughter, her lab that took up a whole level of Stark Tower made sense.

“Steve?”

“Sorry, lost in thought.” He chose his next words carefully. “I was thinking about Howard and how he’d be impressed by what his son built here.”

Darcy shrugged. “Tony had a lot of help. Pepper helped him remake the company after he got out of the weapons manufacturing business.” She reached for Steve’s hand and pointed to the corner of her lab that she’d converted into a small living area. “I ordered pizza. Want to watch a movie and make out on the sofa?”

The deflection was smoothly done, and Steve didn’t press. He wanted Darcy to tell him when she was ready, not because he forced the issue. “Sounds great.”

“We’re watching ‘The Princess Bride.’ It’s silly and a classic.” Darcy paused as she led him to the sofa. “That’s weird, you know, to say that.”

“I don’t mind.”

He did, though, and Darcy called him on it. “You do. And that’s on me for being insensitive.”

“You don’t have to watch everything you say, Darce. I can handle it.”

She looked up through her glasses, the lenses bringing out the blue in her eyes. “I don’t want you ‘handle it.’ If it sucks, say so.”

“It does s--suck.’ The phrase stuck in his mouth. “I’m twenty-six, Darcy. And everyone treats me like I’m an old man,” he complained.

Darcy skimmed her eyes down his long body and crawled over him so that she straddled his lap. Steve was pretty sure his IQ dipped fifty points, but he made himself focus on what she was saying.

“You’re ninety-three and young people are scared of old people because we know they’re smarter and wiser than the rest of us, and we’re afraid of being judged. They call your generation ‘The Greatest Generation’ because you came from poverty, and the Depression, and through a bunch of wars. Your generation sculpted our country--not always in good ways, but in profound ones. It’s intimidating to meet someone who was willing to storm the castle and die for what he believed in.”

Darcy was earnest as she explained, but took his hands in hers at the same time. Steve kissed her knuckles. How was he supposed to explain that he’d “died” for something other than his country?

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, I’m a--” There was  the briefest hesitation. “PhD. And that gives us the authority to be right on everything.”

Steve laughed, though not at Darcy’s words. “Of course I’m right, I’m a Stark” was one of Howard’s favorite phrases.

“Sure thing, doll. So, am I going to have to watch this movie, or do I get to neck with you?”

“The second, definitely the second. At least until the pizza gets here.”

He pulled her to him. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

 

* * *

 

_Part 2: The Parents_

 

Darcy still wasn’t used to her parents being back in New York, but she liked it. It was fun to crash on occasion in their new flat in Stark Tower. Dad really did have the coolest toys, and it had been years since they’d lived in the same town. Although, Dad nagged the crap out of her about moving in the Tower and gave a her a whole floor as an enticement.

The fact that she’d leased a carriage house on 45th street annoyed the hell out of him. Of course, Darcy didn’t mention to Tony that Pepper had bought the house and held the lease.  

Darcy wanted to do something “normal” for a girl her age, and there weren’t many young adults who could afford to buy a house in Manhattan.  Then again, there weren’t many who could afford a lease on their own either, but Darcy drew the line at roommates.  She liked the little street, with the grocery store on one end of the block and the bar on the other.  She’d decorated it with a kitschy combination of IKEA and a handful of antiques she’d borrowed from Stark Mansion.

As she spent the evening in a major Nerf battle with her dad while they waited for Pepper to get back from DC, Darcy wondered how Steve would react to finding out she was a Stark.  She’d never told a soul.  Those who did know had learned from Aunt Peggy or her dad, and Darcy could still count them all on two hands.

But Darcy had fallen hook, line, and sinker for Captain Steven G. Rogers and had a pretty good feeling he was in the same boat.  And seeing how Steve and her grandfather had been good friends, Darcy couldn’t turn the next corner on their relationship without coming clean about her parentage.  

It would be a first for her, and she was equal parts terrified and relieved that they’d reached this point.  Terrified, because what if the truth was too much?  Taking on a Stark wasn’t easy, and if Steve knew Howard as well as he said he did, he’d know that firsthand.  But she didn’t like playing the part of ‘Darcy Lewis’ with Steve.  She wanted to tell him about the room in Stark Mansion where Howard kept Steve’s things. She wanted to tell Steve about her Aunt Peggy, and all the cool things Darcy Stark had experienced growing up that ‘Darcy Lewis’ couldn’t possibly have done.

Tony took her down in double-tap move that Darcy absolutely didn’t see coming. Sometimes she hated knowing her dad had learned to fight as a way of making up for all the weapons Stark Industries had made over the better part of a century, but she understood the bone-deep guilt over knowing how her family had made its fortunes.

“Hey,” she protested as she dove on the floor next to the sofa.

“Too slow. I win,” he crowed.

DUM-E rolled up behind her, a depositing a pile of darts within reach.  She grabbed a handful, rolled to her back, and threw them all at her dad.  “Grapeshot. I’ll take you with me.”

He collapsed on the floor next to her, panting slightly.  “Fair enough.”

  


Poor DUM-E got stuck on cleanup duty. He scooped up dart after dart with a forlorn sadness that the game was over.

When Pepper walked in, she stopped at the threshold of the living room and laughed at the fallout. “I see you two were productive while I was gone.”

“Hey, I triaged your inbox,” Darcy protested.

Tony shrugged. “The arc reactor for the Tower is almost done. I don’t feel guilty about taking time off with my Spawn. Not a bit.”

Pepper eyed father and daughter, and Darcy had a sneaky suspicion both of them were in trouble.  Tony must have had the same thought because he rolled to his feet and scampered after Pepper.  

“What’d I do? What’d I miss?” he asked.  “It’s big, isn’t it? I’m in trouble.”

Darcy took a different route. “Want a glass of wine, Mom?”

“Please,” Pepper called out from the bedroom.

Darcy opened a bottle and poured  a trio of glasses while Pepper changed clothes.  She came out wearing shorts and a t-shirt and settled with Tony on the sofa, taking the proffered glass gratefully.

“Long day?”

“Not really. Just the usual.” Pepper eyed Darcy. “So, I know you’re dating.  But I have to ask, is it serious or just a fling?”

Tony sat up. “What? No. You’re not old enough to date.” He hissed when Pepper elbowed him in the stomach.

Darcy should have known her mom would figure out what was up first. “Serious, I think. It’s definitely heading that direction.”

“Serious is not part of the equation,” Tony insisted.

“I’m not getting married, Dad. But yeah, I have a boyfriend. I like him. A lot,” she confessed.

“What’s his name?” Pepper asked.

Darcy pulled her feet up and rested her chin on her knees. She tried not to stare at her dad, but she needed to see his reaction. “Steve Rogers.”

“Tell me that’s a weird coincidence,” Tony demanded.

“Um, nope,” she confessed.

Tony shot off the couch and stalked toward the window. “Seven billion people on the planet, and you have to pick the one person who’s been the bane of my universe since I was born? Nice going, Minion,” he spat out. “Way to get your revenge for all the shit I put you through. Nailed it.”

“Tony--” Pepper started, equal parts sympathetic and annoyed.

Darcy slid off the sofa and went after her dad. “He’s not who you think he is, Dad. He’s different.”

“Really? You’re going with that line? Pretty sure John Hughes wrote that one. Overdone.”

“Have you met him?” she insisted.

“Don’t want to.”

“Well, I did. And I like him.” Darcy leaned against the window as she tried to talk to Tony. “He’s nice. Doesn’t treat me like a set of boobs. Easy to talk to. Really dry sense of humor.”

Tony snorted. “Does he have any faults?”

“He needs a pair of pants that don’t belong in the forties, he can be an asshole when he’s pissed, and I hate the fucking tragic superhero angel look because it wrecks my concentration,” Darcy retorted. “He’s also not as uptight or old-fashioned as people think he is, and he milks that for all it’s worth, so don’t be like everyone else and underestimate him.”

“Noted. I’m done here.” Tony stormed out of the room toward his lab, leaving Darcy with her mom.

Darcy covered her face as Pepper gathered her in for a hug.  “For what it’s worth, I like Steve,” her mom said. Darcy leaned against her mom for a long minutes, and then stormed out of the Tower, taking Tony’s Bugatti for a long, fast ride.

 

 

* * *

 

_Part 3: The Morning After_

 

Steve threw the covers back. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but hey, after the night with Darcy, (first night together and all that) he was only human in the end.  A hand to the still-warm sheets proved that she hadn’t been gone long.  He rolled off the bed, snatching up his underwear as he went.  He looked for his shirt, and found it on his girlfriend as she leaned against the doorframe.

She toyed with a lock of her hair. “So, am I supposed to be making a quick escape and pretending we’ll never see each other again?”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Or you could let me make you pancakes and we can spend the rest of the day together.”

Darcy lit up like the sun as she eased into the room. “I like your idea better.”

He crawled to the end of the bed and tugged her down.  “I have another one, Darcy Le--.” He frowned.  “Darcy … Stark?” She’d confessed last night, and it had been a relief to tell her he already knew.

The smile she had before was positively dim compared to the one she had now.  “Darcy Maria Stark,” she offered as she stretched out against him.  

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Stark.”

“Ms Stark,” she corrected.

“Miiizzz Stark,” he exaggerated as he rolled her to her back so that he could lay a kiss on her throat.

“Better.” Darcy’s throat vibrated against his lips as she spoke. “You can stop that, like, never.”

“Really? Because you’re not wearing panties, and I had a better idea.” He slipped a hand over the curve of her hip, letting his thumb slide along her plush folds.

His girl was definitely short of breath when she agreed, “Okay, you can do that. But I still get pancakes after, right?”

Steve deliberately winked and slid his fingers inside her wet heat.  “Sure thing, doll.”

“Oh my god, you are such a shit, Steven Rogers.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

 

 

Over pancakes, Darcy shyly asked about her grandfather.  “What was he like?

“Brilliant, hard—though he was as hard on himself as he was on everyone else—never met a dame he didn’t like, and he was an arrogant son-of-a—“ Steve stopped short, though Darcy laughed anyway.  “Peggy was his friend as much as I was.”

“You could be describing my dad,” Darcy said after a moment.

“I’ve heard.  Also heard that Howard changed after I went down. I’m sorry for that, Darcy.  If I ever meet your dad, I’ll apologize to him too.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “He’ll piss you off before you get the chance, so don’t bother.” She stabbed her fork into another pancake and dragged it over to her plate to drown it in syrup.

“Personal experience?” he asked as lightly as he could manage.

“Frequently.”

Steve studied Darcy as she chewed her bite.  “I guess I’m not high up on his list of potential suitors for his daughter.”

“Got it in one. Mom likes you, though, so Dad will come around.” She waved her fork for emphasis.

“I’ll behave,” he promised.

“Don’t. It’ll make it easier. Dad hates it when people suck up to him. He can see kowtowing from a mile away,” she advised.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve folded his hand over hers and brought it up to kiss the knuckles.  “So, Ms Stark, we’ve had three dates, declared ourselves to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and spent the night together. What’s next?”

Darcy smiled a touch too brightly, in that way she had of trying to hide her insecurities.  Steve leaned over, tugged her chair right up between his legs,  and took her into his arms.  

The smile fell away, and she leaned against him.  “I don’t know, Steve. You’re like, the seventh or eighth person who knows I exist, and the first person that I’ve told. You know my granddad, and my Aunt Peggy, and my mom.” She said all that very matter-of-factly.  “Dad’s done a pretty awesome job of keeping me hidden. He didn’t want me growing up in the shadow of the Stark Legacy like he did.”

Steve held Darcy until she sat up straight only a minute or two later.  Then he prompted, “Aunt Peggy? I’d heard she and Howard stayed friends.”

Darcy shrugged. “I know. It’s weird. Aunt Peggy always kept an eye on my dad. She helped him hide me.”

“I take it you don’t want to change that anytime soon.”

“The hiding thing? No.  It’s easier to build my own rep at Stark Industries without that particular moniker for the time being.  But that doesn’t mean I have to hide Darcy Lewis or the fact she’s dating Steve Rogers.”

Darcy sucked on her bottom lip (just like B--), and without thinking, Steve reached out with his thumb to soothe it.  

“Works for me. You and I will know the truth, and we build on that.”

Laurel green eyes met his. For just a moment, her expression was utterly blank, as if she couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.  And then Darcy’s mouth widened into that victory smirk.  “You know, I think I’ll take you up on that. ‘Cause I really like you.”

“Yeah? Well, I like you too,” he affirmed.

Darcy had the softest smile he’d seen yet as she went back to eating her pancakes.

 

 

She didn’t leave his apartment until she had to go to work on Monday morning.  Steve took himself to the gym for an intense workout that gave him time to think.  

He didn’t have any right to feel for Darcy the way he did.  He’d watched her go this morning, knowing damned well he wanting nothing more than the beg her to stay.  But he didn’t.  She had a life. A family. A future.

Steve had nothing to offer her. Not a home, not a family, not even a job at the moment to show his worth.  He closed his eyes against the ache inside.  He’d had nothing before, too. And Bucky never cared a whit about it.

He couldn’t be so lucky twice, and the fact that he was falling hard for Howard’s granddaughter only highlighted the void in his heart that still ached with a frightening intensity.

With his fists pounding viciously into the bag, Steve knew damned well he’d found their girl and hated every second that Bucky wasn’t here to meet her.

 

 

 


	8. Friends

_Part 1: Bruce_

 

Bruce wasn’t really planning on staying in New York, but Stark nagged him into it.  In what seemed like five breaths, Tony had rebuilt a portion of his Tower to make room for the Avengers.  

Since Bruce had zero interest in hanging around S.H.I.E.L.D., and because it felt really good to be in a lab again, he moved in.  

It was the most fun he’d had in a decade.  Stark was equal parts inspiring and a pain-in-the-ass.  Which, if Bruce was to be honest, made his own life way more interesting. He didn’t feel the thrumming rage under his skin quite so much.  

Today, Tony wanted to show off the new holotables in his lab, so of course, he picked Bruce.  Who didn’t mind.  Tony’s stuff was usually pretty damned fascinating.  

But the most interesting part of the visit was when a young woman appeared through a secret door in the lab, carrying a cup of coffee.  She pinked as she saw Bruce, who quipped to Tony, “I thought you and Pepper--”

The girl sighed with annoyance. “Whoops. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” She pivoted to go back the way she came.  

But Tony stopped her.  “Darcy, I told JARVIS not to warn you.”

“Warn me?” The young woman--in her early twenties, Bruce would guess--gave Tony a hard look.

“Darcy? Banner.  Banner? Darcy, my daughter,” Tony said abruptly.  “Goes by Darcy Lewis and congratulations on being in the exclusive few who know.  Let’s keep that number right there for a while?  She's technically going to be your boss at Stark Industries in a few weeks, but all that’s going to be okay, right? Right.  Moving on.”

Darcy had more manners than Stark, because she walked up to Bruce and held her hand out.  “Darcy Stark, pleased to meet you.” Bruce shook it, decided her distinct lack of fear must be genetic, and told her as much.   She lifted a shoulder and her red-painted mouth widened into a brilliant smile. “My dad is Tony Stark.”  

Bruce laughed.  “All right.  I’ll give you that one.”  

In the coming weeks, Bruce noticed that Darcy adopted a slightly bewildered-though-witty facade around anyone but her parents.  With them, she morphed into a sharp young woman with a head for business as much as science. She also had a spine of steel that spoke of Pepper’s influence.

The third time Darcy dropped by his lab, she brought a pair of assistants who’d passed her rigorous testing. To Bruce’s surprise, he discovered both of them were calm, funny, and wholly unafraid of his alter ego. The small sounds and conversation they made on their end of the lab kept him grounded in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He’d learned the hard way about keeping himself rested, relaxed, and well-fed.  When one of the assistants brought him his favored tea and a hearty sandwich without being asked, and the other made “closing up shop” for the day rather obvious, Bruce discovered his days went a little smoother.

Whenever Bruce worked in Tony’s lab, his new friend unfailingly bragged on his daughter.  Tony was ridiculously proud of her, and Bruce found the whole relationship both amusing and kind of touching.  

Keeping her secret was easy.  Simple, really. And it was one more layer to keep the Other Guy at bay.

 

* * *

 

_Part 2: Clint_

 

In the wake of the Battle of New York, Tony Stark had the idea to give all of the Avengers a home in his Tower.  Clint wasn’t particularly surprised that Banner took him up on the invitation, nor that Rogers declined it in favor of moving to DC to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Though Stark and Rogers had a tentative detente’, living in the same building was probably too much to ask.

Fury got wind of the invite and pounced on it.  He called Barton and Romanoff into his office.  “You two are moving in. That’s a fucking open invitation to keep an eye on Stark and both of you are going to take it.”

“What about Rogers?” Natasha asked.  “I thought you wanted us to work with him and the STRIKE team?”

“Oh, you’ll be keeping an eye on him.  I want one of you in the Tower and one of you in the field,” Fury said.

Clint frowned, perfectly understanding which of them would be where.  “So you’re putting me on babysitting duty?”

“Do you have a problem with that, Barton?”

“I told you, I’m fine.” As fine as anyone could be after having a god playing in his head.

“Which is why you’re getting babysitting duty.  Now, just because I’m nice, I’m going to give you a clue.  I don’t only want you to keep eyes on Stark.”

“Sir?”

“Darcy Lewis. Barton, you already know her.  She’s working for Stark, and she’s gonna take on the Chitauri weapons analysis for me.”

Clint arched a brow at Fury.  "Lewis is a scatter-brained pol-sci student.  Why are you giving her high-level weapons tech to dissect?"

"You sure about that, Barton? Because the last time I checked, she's a child prodigy from MIT. Oh, and she's dating your teammate.  Rogers doesn’t take kindly to weird shit happening to his loved ones, and Lewis has seen some weird shit."  

When Clint snapped his mouth shut, Fury dismissed them with no other instruction.

In the hallway outside, Natasha rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure which is worse, looking after Captain Indestructible or diving back into Stark Industries.  At least Pepper's still there. She's been the saving grace for that company."

"They're actually dating now, right?" Clint asked.

"Yes. Finally."

"What took so long?"

"Tony had to grow up."

“Is that possible?”

Natasha snorted rather inelegantly. “Got me.”

 

**

 

Clint and Natasha moved in.  Stark offered them a floor each, but like Banner, they doubled up on half of one and congratulated themselves on the plush digs. Stark complained about the extra spaces,  introduced them to JARVIS, the building’s voice command system, and told them to do whatever they wanted to finish out their place.  

Natasha had zero problems spending Stark’s money, but Clint knew if the apartment was left to her, they would have a bed with thousand-count sheets, a leather couch with two dozen squishy pillows, a closet stuffed to the brim, and very little else.  Amazon came in handy, and for a week, there was a pile of boxes and furniture left outside their door every day.  After the first shipment arrived with kitchen towels in a Holstein cow motif, Nat decided she needed to supervise Clint’s orders.  He still got the matching cow salt and pepper shakers and laughed every time Nat sneered at them.

They had two weeks to get used to living in the Tower before Nat and Rogers were called up.  Plenty of time to get to know the layout and security measures.  

Since he hadn’t bothered to connect the television in the apartment, Clint made himself comfortable in the Commons with the Yankees at bat.  That afternoon, Darcy popped into the Commons.  She wiggled her fingers at him, made a sandwich and small talk, then headed to the elevator.  

Damn. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on her.  He rolled off the couch, found a bag of Cheetos in the pantry, and took the chance she was going to her lab.  

When he requested her floor, there was a definite pause as the AI obtained permission from Darcy to go there.  Good security, he thought.  And why didn’t he know this floor existed?  

Even more puzzling was the fact Darcy had a whole floor to herself.  Her lab occupied only a third or so of the space, and the rest of it remained empty. Darcy had graphics and diagrams hanging all over her lab, with Chitauri tech scattered all over the tables.  

Now the intense security and private floor made some sense with all the alien weapons lying around, but still, a whole floor for one person?  

Darcy had pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and she’d changed into a t-shirt, tattered jean shorts, and blue Doc Martens.  Pop music filled the room, proving she had installed a truly excellent sound system.  

Touching her glasses to slide them up her nose, Darcy recited, “No baseball on the television, don’t step on the minions, don’t ask to change the playlist, and don’t touch anything with Cheeto-fingers.  Drinks in the fridge; coffee on the counter.”

“Roger that.”  Clint pulled out a stool and settled in to watch. It took a couple of minutes to figure who the minions were, but he laughed when a dozen small robots scooted out from under the work tables to wiggle to the beat of the music.  They were kind of cute, like little Roombas with “arms” that waved in synchronicity.  Darcy sent them on errands here and there to retrieve parts and tools.  The arms and legs extended as needed to reach stuff, then the robots collapsed back down to zip about the lab.  

Clint wondered if Fury offered her the Chitauri weapons project to distract her from Rogers’ missions, or if he’d gotten Rogers out of the way so she would be willing to tackle it. He’d heard she’d declined it initially.  He still couldn’t quite match up the impish student with the genius from the S.H.I.E.L.D. file., though she certainly seemed comfortable in her space.

“So, Darcy Lewis of ‘I tased Thor’ and ‘I survived a skirmish with a god’ fame, you’ve got nice digs for an intern. What’s the scoop?” he asked.

“I need that on a t-shirt, and doesn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. have a dossier on me?” Darcy retorted as she enlarged the schematics of the targeting mechanism of one of the larger Chitauri weapons. She highlighted a particular piece on the diagram, then proceeded to dismantle the real thing on her table.

He dug in his bag of Cheetos. “If I’m to believe your file, you’re still a student.”

Darcy rolled her eyes.  “Should be interesting reading then. I graduated, by the way.  S.H.I.E.L.D. should update their paperwork.”

“I wanna know what you have over Stark to warrant your own floor.”

She glanced at Clint as he licked his fingers and reached for targeting mechanism that she had laid aside. “He likes my brain. So does your boss, apparently. And don’t you dare touch that, Cheeto-boy.” Darcy dug through a drawer in  her workbench and tried to bean him with a can of wet wipes, adding, “You lost the coin toss?”

He caught the container one-handed.  He raised an eyebrow at her while wiping his hands, then picked up the scope and peered through it. “What coin toss?”  

“The one you and Nat flipped to decide who was going to babysit me while Steve went to work,” Darcy retorted.  

Clint laughed outright.  “Hell, Darcy, given the choice of babysitting you or Rogers, I won that coin toss. But don’t mention it to Nat.”

A small smile hovered over Darcy’s lips as she tapped something out on her keyboard.   Clint mentally zipped back through the dossier, what he knew about Rogers’ girlfriend, and the intern in the desert.  It all fit together--but it didn’t, and he didn’t know why. Yet.  

“So what you were doing with Dr. Foster in the desert?”

“She’s my friend, Hawkeye.”  

Whoops.  That was a pointed reminder that he was a spy and an Avenger, and Darcy’s guard was waaaay up.  Clint set down the scope and headed for her sofa.  “Can I watch your TV? It’s better than the one in the Common area.”

“No baseball,” she said absently.

“Rogers still bitter about the Dodgers? I’ll keep your coffee pot full if I can stay.”

“You have no idea, and you’re hired.”

 

Clint would be the absolute last person to admit that hanging around Stark Tower gave him time to get his head on straight after Loki’s tricks.  It was an easy op, he liked Darcy’s company, and she made bodyguard duty pretty damned easy.  She zipped to DC often enough to report to Fury, who seemed to have a knack for timing Clint’s real ops for when Steve was home.  

It was a subtle way of keeping a bodyguard on the engineer, and all it did was raise more questions. Fury didn’t keep tabs on Pepper Potts--though to be fair, Pepper traveled with a couple of guards at Tony’s insistence.

So he dug into it. Made calls. Asked a lot of questions.  But every single box was checked and Darcy was damned good at dodging questions.  Her file said she'd lost her parents at eighteen while she was at school.  Clint wondered if that’s why Tony seemed to have a soft spot for Lewis.  It wasn’t anything overt, just a stray glance or two, and occasionally Clint noticed a tool or piece of tech in Darcy’s lab that had been in Tony’s a day or two before. Darcy wasn’t afraid to pull in Tony for a consult on the weapons tech, but from what Clint saw, it was an above-board professional relationship only.   

When he discovered Darcy had a title at Stark Industries and Pepper seemed to be mentoring the girl, he was even more confused. For a few days, Clint entertained the idea that Stark and Lewis were related, but chasing that rabbit revealed absolutely no evidence in that direction, so he dismissed it as wishful thinking.

Natasha made a point of renewing her friendship with Pepper.  It was easy enough to draw Darcy along to their post-work drinks under the pretense of “us girls need to stick together,” but weeks later, even Nat was baffled.  She, too, didn’t quite believe the dossier, but they had zero evidence of a conspiracy or even a lie.  

It wasn’t until he had a particularly lousy night’s sleep--thank you, Loki--that he got a whiff of a clue.  Nat was due back from a long op any time now, so he headed for the terrace on the Commons floor to wait.  

He found Darcy in the kitchen with dark circles under her eyes and obvious tear tracks, though she’d dried them off. She had her cell phone in her hand and stared blindly at it, idly tapping at the screen.  

The words spilled out before he was smart enough to stop them.  “You look like crap.”

She was startled, head popping up. Her eyes widened, and she straightened just enough to assume the persona of the sassy intern.  And it was a persona. One that was so deeply ingrained that she could pull it on like a pair of comfortable shoes.  Huh.

“Bet that line worked on all the girls back home,” Darcy quipped.

“Want to talk about it?” he offered.  

“Do you want to talk about yours?” she shot back.

“No.”

“There you go.” After that, Darcy asked about Clint’s last session in the Avenger’s Gym downstairs. He answered, accepting the change in subject. For some reason, he was disappointed that Darcy didn't trust him yet with her secrets. She kept up the chatter for a full ten minutes, and then slipped off the stool.  “Okay, I need some shut eye. I’m out of here.”

He doubted she would sleep.  

Before she went too far, a peculiar whine outside the windows announced the arrival of Stark’s Quinjet.  Nat walked out, carrying her go bag.  Stark followed. Darcy  lifted her hand in acknowledgement.  She sighed and turned away to leave, punching a button on her cell phone as she did.

When Rogers followed Stark, Clint placed a hand on Darcy's shoulder. "Your boyfriend's here."

Darcy spun around.  She glanced at Clint, and he wished like hell he could read her carefully opaque expression.   Then she darted across the room and went into Steve’s arms.

"Did something happen?" Clint asked softly.

Nat rolled her eyes as she pulled him up the stairs to their place. “I don’t know.  We landed in DC a couple of hours ago.  When we finished the debrief, Rogers was heading home when he got a call from Darcy.  He didn’t hesitate, just walked on the Quinjet and said he needed to be in New York. Stark usually needles him about Darcy, but he didn’t this time.”  

As Clint warmed up enchiladas he’d made earlier, he voiced his complaints to the one person who would understand.  “Nothing makes sense.”

Nat unlaced her boots and dropped them on the kitchen floor as she slid into a bar stool. “Lewis is hiding something, but at this point, I think it could be something she’s terribly ashamed of having done when she was a teen-ager or maybe she knows something she shouldn’t.  She’s not a spy, that much I can tell you.”  

“Is it stupid for me to say that I don’t want her to be a spy?”  Clint pulled a couple of bottles of beer out of the fridge, popped the tops, and set them on the counter along with the warmed-up casserole.

Nat shrugged. “She’s fun.  Intelligent.  It’s easy to see why Rogers adores her.” She found a couple of napkins and dropped them on the counter.  “She hasn’t been broken. Maybe that’s what you’re sensing.”

“What about Tony and Pepper?”

“I don’t know. Stark doesn’t flirt with her, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s being careful because Pepper’s in the house or because he’s in a real relationship and doesn’t want to screw it up. He watches Darcy though.  More that he should.  Which goes right back to him being careful.”

“Darcy’s not cheating on Steve,” Clint insisted as he handed Nat a fork and the pair of them dug right into the enchiladas. Both of them hated washing dishes.  

“Didn’t say she was.  Don’t think Tony’s cheating on Pepper either,” Nat agreed as she swallowed her bite.  “God, this is good.  Did you put queso fresco in it?”

“Uh huh.”  Since that was Nat’s way of dismissing a subject, Clint turned the topic to the new training facilities Tony had installed in the Tower while Nat was gone.

 

 

When Pepper named Darcy to VP of R&D, she began travelling to various cities around the globe to check out new developments that Stark Industries might want to bring under her umbrella.   Clint kept her company and discovered her charm and candor disarmed even the prickliest of researchers.  She had a knack for listening and knowing what questions to ask.  

He discovered a number of interesting tidbits.  Darcy played a mean game of gin, courtesy of her boyfriend. She was ridiculously in love with that same boyfriend, who didn’t seem to have any problems keeping up with either her tech or her terminology.  (Since that meant Rogers was subtly trolling pretty much everyone, Clint’s estimation of Rogers rose substantially.)

Darcy had shitty nightmares too.  She and Clint occasionally killed a bottle of Jameson’s when sleeping wasn’t an option. She refused to discuss them, which was fine; he didn’t want to talk about his either.

Clint decided that whatever secret Darcy had was so ingrained that she’d subconsciously built her personality around it.  Whatever it was, he couldn’t crack it, but since it didn’t seem to have any serious implications, he stopped trying.

 

 

As the holidays rolled around, Clint and Nat were called out for a classic spy mission (he even got to wear a tux!) that was their forte’.  Steve and his crew went on without Nat in effort to wrap up their own op before Christmas.

When STRIKE Team Delta returned to the Hub, they discovered that Stark’s house in Malibu had been taken out by a missile strike. With Stark and Potts both MIA, Darcy was holding Stark Industries together in the face of the disaster. They also found that Fury had inexplicably recalled Rogers and dumped him at the Tower.

Then again, Clint mused, if Stark and Potts were under attack, whoever was in charge at SI would be the next target, and Steve was well-suited to foiling that plot.

Clint and Nat volunteered to go out, but by then, Stark had popped up back on the radar and Col. Rhodes was already in play. Those two managed a presidential rescue, found Pepper in the process, and got rid of several annoying bad guys.   It was damned complicated, and Clint was sure he only knew a fraction of the real story.  

He and Nat debated for the better part of a week as to why Darcy had taken leadership of Stark Industries, rather than one of the more senior staff.  When the question was posed to Stark, he shrugged it off.

“No one doubts her loyalty,” is all he said.   

He wasn’t wrong, but none of it made sense.

 

 

A few weeks into the new year, Darcy took a trip to a smudge on the map called Waterloo--in Canada of all places--to meet with the inventor of a quantum computing chip.  As usual, Clint went with her and decided he wasn’t a fan of seven feet of snow.  

“That’s why they build tunnels between the buildings, Barton.  So you don’t have to get your feet all cold and wet,” Darcy teased.

“That’s something,” he grumbled.

The meeting went well enough. Darcy got her answers, but played Stark Industries’ interest close to the vest.  They were halfway home on Stark’s jet when she answered her cell phone with a touch of exasperation.   

“What is it this time?” Darcy’s eyes went wide, and she flicked a look at Clint.  “No, I’m on my way.  God, I’m what--four or five hours out.  That asshole did this on purpose.  Keep me updated.”

Darcy’s fingers flew across her phone in a series of texts as Clint asked, “Who’s the asshole?”

“Your teammate. He decided to have surgery to remove the shrapnel and the arc reactor.  Pepper’s a mess and he tried to get away with not telling her.”

“How’d she find out?”

“She’s got a lot of experience knowing when Tony is trying to pull something over on her.”

Darcy seemed  shaken, and was definitely annoyed, but opened her laptop and made a whole series of phone calls, texts, and emails to various portions of SI--mostly surrounding meetings and deadlines that had to be rearranged.

Clint made an excuse to get a water bottle for Darcy and brought it back with him, conveniently dropping down next to her where he could get a glimpse at her screen.  Darcy ignored him as she sorted through what was obviously Pepper’s in-box, judging by the email headings.

“Fuck.  The Senate hearing on updating the EPA guidelines for disposing of weapons tech is in two days,” she muttered.  “I’ll have to go to that. There’s no way Pepper’s going to leave Tony for that length of time.”

Startled, Clint asked, “Is there anyone else at SI who can do it?”

The look she gave him was oddly sad.  “It’s my job.”  

He left her alone, wondering if he would ever understand the young woman.

 

When they landed, instead of heading to Stark Tower as Clint expected, Happy drove them straight to the hospital, where Steve waited at the door.  

There was no mistaking the way Darcy’s fingers curled around Steve’s wrist. She held on hard enough that her knuckles whitened.  Steve gathered her close, murmuring something in her ear that had Darcy ease her grip.  He nudged her toward the elevator, though she’d kept her hand in place.  

“I’m missing something here,” Clint complained.

Darcy patted him on the cheek as the doors opened on the fourth floor.  “You’re about to find out.”

Clint threw Steve a quizzical look, but his teammate just gave a tiny shake of his head.  Rhodey let them in. Banner was keeping Stark company, and Pepper held Tony’s hand.   

Tony visibly flinched as Darcy walked in.  When he looked to Pepper for help, she left him high and dry.

“Nope,” Pepper told him.  “Everyone else has had a chance to tell you how stupid it was to try to hide something like this.  She gets her turn.”  

Darcy stood at the foot of his bed and crossed her arms. “Really, Dad? I thought Mom had trained you out of this.”

Aw Darcy.  

Clint scratched the back of his head and darted a look at Steve. Yup. That was Cap’s disappointed face and it was aimed at Darcy’s --- dad.  Yeah.  Her dad.  Tony. Darcy.  Pepper.  That S.H.I.E.L.D. dossier had more holes than one of Clint’s targets when he was bored.

Tony looked away, plucking at the sheets out of pure nerves.  “I didn’t want to put you through anything else, honey.”

Darcy shivered, still holding Steve’s wrist.  “I almost lost my parents for Christmas.” She shook her head.  “Don’t tell me what I can handle.”  Then, as if she was five, Darcy kicked off her shoes and crawled on to the edge of the hospital bed to curl up next Tony.  She didn’t cry.  She didn’t say another word as she buried her face against his arm.  

Rhodey nudged Clint, Steve, and Bruce out the door and closed it behind them. “I’m staying here.  If one of you wants to relieve me in a couple of hours, I could use some sleep. It’s been a hell of a day.”

“Hogan’s downstairs.  Tell him you’ll be down in fifteen.  I’m not going anywhere,” Steve replied. “I just need a cup of coffee.”

Steve and Bruce led the way to a waiting room where Clint collapsed on a chair.  “Next time, I’ll trust my instincts,” he said sourly.  “You both knew, obviously.”

Bruce turned his hands up.  “Stark can’t bring himself to lock Darcy out of his lab.  It was kind of inevitable.”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” Steve added as he handed Clint a foam cup of truly terrible coffee.  “Don’t feel bad about not knowing.  Peggy wrote Darcy’s S.H.I.E.L.D. file and updated it every year.  No one bothered pulling it until New Mexico, and even then Coulson was the only one who knew because Peggy called him herself.  And until Darcy and I started seeing each other, Fury didn’t know either.  That information is not part of S.H.I.E.L.D.s records and it’s going to stay that way.”  He set his hands on his hips.  

Leaning against the counter, Bruce commented, “Still can’t quite see Tony with a toddler.”  

“He’d just turned eighteen when she was born,” Steve offered quietly.  “He wouldn’t let anyone else raise her, and kept her out of the media.  Peggy helped. A lot. Pepper adopted her when she was ten.”

“Sounds like you admire him,” Bruce said.

“I try to keep it in mind whenever I have the need to strangle him.”

With a huff of agreement, Clint asked,  “You gonna tell Nat?”

Earnest blue eyes locked with his. “When the time is right. I’d like to tell her myself, if that’s okay.”

Clint shrugged.  Wouldn’t be the first time he and Nat kept secrets from each other.   He drank his coffee, crushed the cup, and lobbed it into the open trash can.  

As he did, he discovered he knew exactly what Darcy’s nightmares were about.

 

* * *

 

 

_Part Three: Jane_

In the wake of the Convergence, Jane had to admit that she was more than ready to get off the whole European continent, and with Thor-- _Thor!_ \--here on Earth _(Midgard!)_ , Tony Stark was bugging his alien teammate to take up residence in the Tower.  

Jane had so much data to sort through, and yet, she really wanted to cuddle up with her boyfriend for several days.  She picked up the load of mail and parked her butt at the dining room table of her mom’s apartment, promising herself she’d get it dealt with.  Darcy had already sorted through the pile, weeding out the crud and putting notes on the rest of it.

“Darcy? Why do I have a contract on my desk with a sticky note from Tony Stark on it?” she asked.

“Because he’s not stupid. Are you interested?”

“For the amount of money he’s willing to put up, I need to at least read it,”Jane mused.

“You’ve got other offers, you know,” Darcy told her as she sat down with coffee for both of them.  “S.H.I.E.L.D. is one, and S.E.T.I. is begging you to come aboard because you pretty much proved their whole raison d’etre.  Plus a couple of universities are begging, but they won’t have the kind of cash Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D. have.”

“I don’t want to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Jane decided.  “I’m still mad about them taking my research.”

“Grudges are good,” Darcy agreed.  “So, go to New York, take a look at what Stark can offer you.  Look over the contracts, especially the patent parts, and see what you think.”

“You live in New York,” Jane said slyly.  

“I do. Want to crash at my place for once?”  

 

So that’s what they did.  Jane discovered Darcy had a seriously cute house in Midtown.  And when Darcy showed Jane into the Tower, they checked out the apartments (wow), the space available for Jane’s lab (drool-worthy), and then they made a stop at one more floor.  The lights came on as they stepped off the elevator.  

“Where are we?” Jane wondered.  The wide windows overlooking Manhattan beckoned, though the shiny room with all its tools and toys commanded her attention.

“This is my real job,” Darcy said, with a touch of embarrassment. “You’re in my lab.”  She brought up her latest project on the holographic tables, and music started playing with a catchy beat.

Jane brightened.  “You work for Stark.”  

Darcy shrugged.  “Well, I really work for my mom , but Dad’s lab is right above mine.”  

“Your dad.”

“Tony Stark.”  

Jane crossed her arms and slowly paced the perimeter of the lab.  When she made a full circle, she stopped in front of Darcy, who was jotting notes on a scratch pad at one of the work tables.  

“You bitch. I knew you were smarter than you let on.”

Darcy laughed outright.  “Tony’s wanted you to work for him for years,” she replied with a smile. “How do you think a poli sci student learned about your internship? God,” she groaned, “He made me learn astrophysics in a weekend so I could at least sort of keep up with you.”

Narrowing her eyes, Jane commented, “No wonder you were so good at keeping my equipment together. Don’t think I didn’t see you soldering that panel in New Mexico.”

“Which time?”

Jane just laughed. “Okay, so if I work for Stark, I get a lab, I get quarters here in the Tower--with or without Thor--I get you, and I get a shitload of money to do my research.  What’s the drawback?”

Darcy pulled up Jane’s Stark Industries contract on the holotable and highlighted some key points.  “For one, I’d be the one you report to since I head up the R&D department. And,” she confessed, “this is a pretty standard Stark Industries contract, so I’d tighten up the galactic implications of your research.  Nail down the patent protections because SI’s very good at patenting anything you don’t call out.”

“Are you supposed to be telling me this?” Jane wondered.  

“I’m your friend.  I’d love for you to come work here.  But the fastest way to screw up a great friendship is to get into a squabble over business.  So let’s get all those squabbles out of the way, put it in writing, and if there are things we need to leave open for later negotiation, then put that in writing too so nobody feels like we’re taking advantage of each other.”  

“You’re good. Is your real name ‘Darcy Stark’ or is it still Lewis’”

Darcy bit her lip. “Stark, but I go by Lewis.”

“I see why you don’t run around announcing that.”  

“It’s safer.”

“I can imagine.”  Jane drummed her fingers on her elbow.  “So, what are the chances I can use the arc reactor to power the grid I want to build for the BiFrost?”

All worry vanished from Darcy’s eyes.  “Now that appears to be something we need to negotiate.”

“Can we do it over margaritas?”Jane grinned.

“And nachos,” Darcy added.  “I definitely miss New Mexico’s nachos. We have a chef who’s pretty good.”  

“I’ll bet.  Okay, let’s get to work.”

The negotiations took four days, margaritas and nachos, several long lunches, consultations with Erik and two high-level patent attorneys.  In the meantime, Jane received several other offers. She looked them over with a critical eye.  

In the end, the decision was easy, and Jane set up shop in Stark Tower.  She shared a lab floor with Banner, which was way too cool, and it turned out they shared a floor for their apartments too.  Not that it meant much, since their paths only occasionally crossed after hours, but Darcy told Jane that Bruce did much better with people he knew and trusted. Bruce liked to cook in his downtime.  Thor liked to eat.  It was a good set up, and they became friends.

Darcy wanted Jane to meet her boyfriend.  They scheduled a double-date at a fancy restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen and arranged to meet there on a Thursday night.  Jane dragged Darcy into the bathroom not five minutes after they arrived.  

“Steve Rogers? Really? Anything else you care to share with the class? What was Ian-the-Intern?”

“Ian is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent because Hawkeye was off on a mission with the Black Widow, and I’m still Steve’s girlfriend, even if we don’t talk about my family tree.  The kiss thing was, well, spur of the moment, the first one was my fault, you know.  The second, not so much.”

“Did you tell Steve?”

“Of course I did.  I only smacked Ian on the lips, because, you know, he saved my ass.  The whole ‘sweep the girl off her feet’ thing after saving the world was on Ian, and he freaked like two seconds later  when he realized he’d locked lips with Cap’s girl.  I’m pretty sure he’s still in deep cover somewhere in Switzerland.”  

Jane rubbed her forehead. “I forget why I like you so much, and then you say things like that and I remember again.”

“Look, at least you know you’ll have someone to drink with when the Avengers are off Avenging.”  

Jane shot Darcy a dirty look.  “Thanks, I think.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Chapter 4: Natasha_

 

Not much pissed Natasha off more than realizing she’d tapped out during an op.  It didn’t happen often, and it was damned good thing Rogers was the one who’d bailed her out. He had enough sense to keep his mouth shut, unlike Clint.  At least this one involved a missile strike. She could cut herself a tiny bit of slack on this one.  She hoped Zola was permanently off-line. After this was over, confirming that kill would be her first priority.

She scrubbed her face, spitting dust and rocks out of her mouth as she figured out-- “We still have the truck?”

“We got lucky,” Steve told her without taking his eyes off the road. “They came in from the other side, and I still remembered a couple of ways out of Lehigh that are probably too old for modern maps.” Now he gave her a careful once over, nodding once to himself.  “I might have scratched the paint a little,” he said wryly.

Nat looked at the pair of them, covered as they were in concrete debris.  “We’re probably going to have to vacuum, too, if you really want to send it back.”  

“Maybe I’ll send them a check, instead. And a thank you note.”  

“Might be a good idea.”  

Steve pulled into a gas station with an outdoor restroom.  Natasha popped the lock on it and took two minutes to wash her face and shake out the dirt on her jacket.   She inventoried her arsenal and came up happy that she hadn’t lost anything. 

When she came out, Rogers handed her a few bills.  “We need gas.  Will you pay for it?” She plucked the money out of his fingertips, gave two twenties to the cashier, and rounded up food and water for the drive.  

The cashier didn’t look twice at either of them, though he complained about the news on the television.  “Assholes.  Somebody messed up big if they think Cap’s on the wrong side of things,” the big man commented.  

Natasha tilted her head, smiling whimsically.  “You know, you’re probably right.”  The cashier waved at her as she returned to the truck.  

A sandwich and a bottle of water later, Steve cleared his throat in that way he had when he was nervous.  

“Spit it out, Rogers.”  

“You know, this game we play about you pretending that you don’t know I’m dating Darcy is nice and all, and it sure makes it easier to keep it all under wraps, but do I really kiss like I haven’t kissed anyone since 1945? I didn’t think I was that bad.” There was a hint of a whine in his voice and it was utterly endearing.   

Natasha burst out laughing.  With every alphabet agency hot on their heels, Captain America was worried that he wasn’t good at kissing.  “Really?  That’s your takeaway?”

“Darcy doesn’t seem to mind.”

“You’re fine,” she assured him.

He glanced at her once, twice. On the third time, Natasha rolled her head over in his direction. “What is it now?”  

“You do know that Darcy is Tony’s daughter, right? I mean, Bruce and Clint have known since you guys moved in the Tower. Jane knows. And Thor. Pepper adopted Darcy when she was ten, and you’re good friends with Pepper, so I figured you had to know.  But no one ever talks about it, right? And we’re always on a mission together so it definitely doesn’t come up,” Steve rattled on nervously.

“Shut up, Rogers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Natasha kicked herself for not seeing it, but, as she sorted through her memories, she’d only seen Darcy and Tony in the same room at the occasional party or dinner.  It was far more likely to find Pepper with Darcy, but that was to be expected given their roles at Stark Industries.

It explained so much.  “Clint knew?”

Steve carefully kept his eyes on the road. “Yeah. He’s going to regret not telling you, right?”

“Maybe. So you’re going to have Tony as a father-in-law?”  

He winced.  “We all have our baggage.”

Natasha checked her phone’s news feed and shifted the subject.  “You know, maybe we should change our game.  I was beginning to wonder if I should be setting you up with men instead of women.”  

Steve shot her a rather desolate look.  “Still have the same problem with shared life-experiences, Nat.”  

Huh. She closed her eyes, hearing loud and clear that he didn’t deny anything she said.

 

* * *

 

 

_Part 5: Friendship_

While Steve and his new friend, Sam, chased down leads on the Winter Soldier, Darcy’s friends closed ranks around her.  Jane made sure Darcy didn’t hole up in her house alone.  Thor gave her hugs. Clint pulled her in for movie night.  Bruce cooked. Natasha listened.  

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Neither Clint nor Natasha have experience with good parent-child relationships, even as observers, so they misunderstand Tony’s interest in Darcy. Even spies have blind spots, and this one is theirs.
> 
> Also ... at the end of Iron Man 3, it appears that Tony has his surgery before Happy gets out of the hospital. I thought that was a little odd and flipped it so that Happy was out for this story.


	9. Bucky

_Part 1: While Steve is in DC, defending the reappearance of James Buchanan Barnes._  

_Set during[Ice and Fire: Ch 22:Things We Do](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1999119/chapters/4919958)_

 

 

The sweep of Darcy’s house (Mission: Protect Stark)had proven that Steve’s dame wasn’t spying on him, nor was anyone else. It wasn’t the first time he’d surveilled the place, and since he was reasonably sure it hadn’t been bugged in the twelve hours since his last sweep, he took in a few more details about the lady who’d put him up in her own place.

Her purse, resting on the shelf of the wardrobe in her bedroom, proved too tempting to resist.  He’d dug through it before, looking for bugs, but when he thumbed through her wallet this time, he noticed a detail he’d missed before.  

He fished her license out of her wallet as he walked downstairs with her purse dangling from his forearm.  “If your father is Tony Stark. Why do you go by ‘Lewis?’”  

Darcy shot him an irritated look from her postage stamp living room that didn’t do a thing to stop him from descending the narrow stairs. “Holy shit, Barnes, are you for real? That’s my purse!” She tried to snatch the bag when he reached the bottom step, but he evaded her by stepping over the coffee table.  “What are you doing with it?”

“Information gathering.”  His deliberately droll response just annoyed her a little more.  “Hiding something?”

“Pretty sure your ma would have knocked you upside the head for digging through a woman’s purse,” she muttered.  She flopped down on the sofa in irritation.  “But no. I don’t have any secrets from you.  Just ask me next time.”

“But you do have secrets.”

“I’m a Stark. Of course I have secrets.  The biggest one being that only a double handful of people know Tony Stark has a daughter.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want the paparazzi following everything I do,” she retorted. “It’s bad enough they take my picture with Steve. And, of course, they don’t see past the boobs, so it’s easy for the media to dismiss me.”  

He frowned, sweeping his gaze from her head to her toes. “How in the hell can anyone dismiss a dame like you?”

Darcy flashed him a smile that dazzled him in a way it probably shouldn’t.  “Because they only see what I want them to see.”

The smile prompted a fuzzy, long-ago memory of another bright scientist to pop into his head. (Younger.  Dark hair.  Mustache.)  “I’m sorry about your granddad.”

Darcy scooted on the sofa to make room for him, tucking her chin on her knees.  “Did they ever give you a reason?”

He bit his lip as he slid her ID back into her wallet, setting it and the purse on the coffee table.  He wanted to sit with her and wondered if it was appropriate. He stood instead. “Sometimes.” (Rule two: Assets do not have feelings.)

“This time?” she asked.

With nothing more than a grey wall in his brain, he confessed, “No… I don’t. … I don’t know. I’m sorry.”  Habit forced him to kneel on the floor beside Darcy, staring hard at a random point on the wall over her shoulder. (Rule one: Assets do not feel pain.) “I had a mission.” It was the only explanation he had, and it was a terrible one.  His mind turned to black.

  


He became aware of Darcy holding his left hand. She’d moved to the edge of the sofa so that she was just centimeters in front of him.

“Bucky, come back to me, okay? Come back.  It’s okay, you’re safe.  Nothing’s going to happen to you here.  I’m not mad, I promise,” she recited in a litany.  Her voice was hoarse, and he wondered how long he’d been gone.  

He swayed a little, and Darcy’s head popped up.  “Bucky?” He nodded. “Oh, yay. Okay, come on up on the sofa.  Your knees have to be killing you.  Come on, there you go,” she coaxed as he moved and laid his head on one of the pillows.  She spread one of her soft blankets on top of him.  The fabric rubbed his face, and he wondered if he’d ever felt anything quite like it.  Fur, maybe.  Nothing else.

“You’re safe.  Steve will be home soon.  We can make tacos for dinner,” she told him.

He wasn’t supposed to touch.  (Rule two: Assets do not have feelings.) Not Steve’s girl.  And yet, he laid his right hand against her cheek.  Just to feel.  Soft. Like the blanket.  Warm.  

“Darcy Stark,” he announced.

“Yes, Barnes. That’s me.”  She covered his hand with hers, those intent blue-green eyes never wavering.  “It’s a big secret.  Will you keep it?”  

“Yes.” (Mission: Protect Stark.)

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Part 2: Post wedding...the Avengers are on a mission to recover Loki's scepter (Between Ch. 74 & 75 of Ice and Fire)_

 

Between one instant and the next, Bucky went from sound sleep to fully awake.  Darcy lay on her stomach next to him, panting quietly in her sleep.  With Steve out for another long mission, Darcy’s nightmares had come back, though not quite with the intensity of the previous months.

He worked his hand under her long hair, pressing down between her shoulder blades until her heart rate steadied again.  He was getting better at chasing Darcy’s bad dreams away.  The last few times he'd done this, she’d slid into a deeper sleep, never quite waking as she calmed under his fingertips.  He couldn’t describe how incredible he felt every time he succeeded in chasing the demons away for his wife.  It ran deeper than any mission parameter he’d ever assigned himself.

But this time she rolled to face him, clutching his hand as she came fully awake.

Damn. “Talk or snuggle?” he offered, kissing the tips of her fingers.

A sweet smile appeared.  “Yeah, yeah, the deadly Winter Soldier offering to cuddle his wife after a bad dream.  No one would believe me.”

He leaned up on his elbow so he could see better.  Whatever she’d dreamed about, it couldn’t be that bad if she was able to poke fun at him. “Excuse to get m’ hands on m’girl?  Gotta be stupid to pass that by,” he retorted.

“You had your hands on me yesterday. A couple of times, as I recall.” She stretched, scooting closer to him. Not that there was more than a finger length of space between them in the first place. But neither of them minded sleeping close, especially not when Steve was away.  

He chuckled, “I’ve got double duty with the punk out saving the world.”

Darcy giggled.  “That’s one way to look at it.” Then her expression changed, falling some.  “Can we find a place to talk?”  

That was a Darcy-rule, one that Bucky liked.  With all three of them battling their various issues, the bedroom was off-limits for serious conversations.  They tried to keep the bedroom--their whole apartment really--a little sanctuary of peace.  It was easy enough to find other places in the Tower to work out their disagreements or worries when they had them.  

They hauled themselves out of bed, found t-shirts and pajama pants, and held hands as they wandered down to the Commons terrace.  Even if one of the other residents was out there at this time of night, they’d be left alone.  The summer air had cooled and, eighty-odd stories up, was chilly enough that Darcy’d brought a light quilt along. She and Bucky sat side-by-side on one of the benches. With the blanket draped over them, it was nice.  

“So,” he prompted, “What’s on your mind, love?”

It took her a while to gather the courage, but Bucky was patient.  He’d spent too many years badgering Steven to talk to be bothered by his girl.  She’d get there.

And she did.  "Mom and Dad are moving back to Malibu this summer."

Ah. "Stark mentioned it,” he agreed.  “Said Pepper will split time between New York and California.” He waited for Darcy to continue.  

"Dad's converting an old Stark Industries storage depot into a new Avengers base of operations. It's an hour by helicopter."

Bucky began to understand. "Worried about everyone moving out?"

She turned dark eyes to him, fidgeting under the blanket until it fell off her shoulders.  "I want to go home,” she blurted out. “You and Steve know about Stark Mansion, but I want to make it our home for real. And if Mom goes back to California, she needs someone here to keep an eye on things. There's too much going on with SI and the Avengers for us not to have a finger on the button every second."

Oh. Now he understood.  "You can't do any of that unless you come clean about being Darcy Stark,” he said.

"Exactly."

"We've talked about it before. I guess you've got a time frame in mind?"

"Before Steve's birthday, I think.  My parents are moving in August. The major renovations in the Mansion are finished.There’s more to be done, but it's mostly paint, a lot of woodwork, and maybe some new furniture here and there. And drapes and linens. You'll see. We could move in before the holidays."

“None if this is anything you can’t handle.”

She sighed.  “I know.”

“Then what is it?”

“I worry about you,” she said, throwing him a quick glance. “Steve’s been in the limelight.  Gets kids stopping him in the park and veterans saluting him all the time.  He’s already fielded the issues with the two of us.  But you’re different.  You don’t deserve to have a spotlight on you.  You’ve been through enough.”

“Hush,” he admonished, with a little squeeze around her middle. “You’ve spent your whole damned life waiting for this,” he told her. “You’ve worked your fuckin’ ass off since you were little to earn the name ‘Stark.’ And you know what, Princess? You don’t have to earn it. It’s yours.  Always has been.  You can burn this company to the ground, take your billions, and go sit on a damned island, if you want.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, though she leaned closer to him. “I’m not going to do that.”

“No, and that’s because you’re Darcy Stark, not because you’re Tony Stark’s daughter.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She slanted him a stubborn look after a few minutes.  “Still going to worry about you though.”

“I’ll be fine.  Can probably handle a photo op or a short interview, even.”

At his words, Darcy tugged the blanket up under her chin again. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Don’t sell me short, doll,” he said lightly.

“Damn it.” Darcy sat up, turning so that she faced him.  “I don’t want to put you in that position.  Reporters can be assholes.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with press, sweetheart.”

Christ, he loved catching her off-guard.  It took her a minute to think about the press-reels of the 40’s, but she did and pouted a little.  “Maybe I’m being overprotective.”

He kissed that bottom lip where it poked out, just because he could. “Don’t know a thing about that either.”  

“James, I’m trying to have an existential crisis here and you’re messing it all up with kisses and logic.”

“By all means, go ahead. But I’m limiting it to three minutes, and then we’re going back to bed.”

“Geez, you’re bossy.”

“Comes from having a punk and a princess for spouses.”

“I’m not that bad,” she countered.

“Determined,” Bucky said as he pulled her in for a hug.  “It’s a good trait for getting shit done. Terrible for taking care of yourself. So that’s my job. Always has been.” Darcy leaned into him again, and damned if he didn’t love the way she curled up against his body, smelling of shampoo and sleep.  In truth, he didn’t give a shit about who or what she wanted to be.  He would stand by her, just as she’d stood by him this past year. “We’ll figure it out, love. You’ve always wielded the Stark Sword. Now you’ll get to be a little more obvious about it.”

“That part will be nice,” she agreed. Darcy glanced up at him, and he was struck by the contrast of the light on her cheek and the dark of her hair. He tried to memorize the way she looked so he could paint it later. Her fingers curled into his shirt.  “I’m scared.”

Her simple statement cut right through him, and he held her close.  “I know.”

  



	10. Darcy Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Thank you for the kudos, comments, and the lurking--I see you. Zen hugs and confetti to every single one of you. 
> 
> Stay tuned for the next episode of "Ice and Fire" where we return to our favorite trio and the aftermath of the Age of Ultron.

 

* * *

 

Catalina opened her door and got an armful of Darcy.

“Oh my god, I’ve missed you, Cat!”

“I’ve missed you too.  It’s been quiet over here with you and your dad in New York.  I’m sorry we didn’t make your announcement. Family obligations, you know?”

“I know. I understand,” Darcy assured her.

They hugged long and hard, and Catalina smiled broadly at the two big men attempting to be unobtrusive on the front porch as they waited.  “Darcy, you have to introduce me to your husbands.”

Darcy blushed as she passed over a bottle of wine and a little gift basket.  “I guess you saw the news?”

“Who could miss it? Come.  Oscar’s on the patio.  He’s got the grill going, so we might as well get comfortable.”  She beckoned them in.  “Come, come.”  

They gathered on the patio, and after Darcy exchanged another long hug with Oscar, she made introductions.  “Catalina, Oscar, these are my husbands, Steve Rogers and James Barnes.”

Oscar rolled his eyes.  “I should have known that it would take two men to keep up with one Darcy Stark.”  

Bucky grinned while Steve shrugged, saying, “You aren’t wrong, sir.”

“Oscar.  Think it’s safe enough to say you’re old enough that I should be calling you, “sir.”

“Let’s not,” Steve countered.

“Good enough.  Want a beer?”

Steve took one, Bucky declined, and the five of them hovered on the patio while delicious smells rose from the wood-fired grill.  Catalina noticed that James stayed quiet, with one hand entwined with Darcy’s, as Steve asked Oscar about the steaks he was grilling.  

She encouraged them to sit while she poured tea.  “Tell me about the wedding,” she insisted.  

Darcy spilled out all the details, finishing by touching her wrist, where a warm yellow light appeared to encircle it.  Steve and Bucky touched their wrists in turn, and identical lights appeared.  

Oscar whistled.  “Well now, that’s a hell of a party favor.”  

Darcy exchanged happy smiles with her husbands, and Catalina got a little teary.  She picked up a napkin and dabbed her eyes.  “Stop that. You know I cry at everything.”

“She does,” Darcy confirmed to Steve and James, laughing as she did.

The conversation was a little formal, maybe even stilted at times.  It was easy to see that James Barnes was wary and trying not to be. Steve and Darcy quietly hovered and took turns keeping the conversation going.  

It was easier when dinner was ready.  Oscar outdid himself with the juicy steaks, and James quietly complimented Catalina on everything else she served.  When she set out the arroz con leche, Darcy lit up.  “You didn’t.”

“I did,” Catalina said with a smile.  “Come now.  You can’t come to my house and not have my specialty.” She dished it up and enjoyed the looks of wonder on the Captain’s and the Sergeant’s faces.  James seemed to relax at last and even took a second helping when offered.  

The conversation flowed more easily after dinner, and Darcy wanted to know all about Catalina and Oscar’s two kids.  

“Angelica is home for the summer.  She’s out with friends,  but she did say she would stop by before you left.  Elias has his internship and will be home next month.”

Darcy mused, “Angelica’s at Boston College, and Elias is at Cornell, right?”

Catalina nodded.  “Yes. It is nice for them to be closer to family.”

From the quick look Darcy exchanged with her husbands, Catalina deduced that there was an ulterior motive for the dinner.  But Darcy scooped up another bite of her rice pudding before offering a clue.  “We’ve been remodeling Stark Mansion.”

“That’s a good deal of work.” Catalina commented.  

Darcy nodded. “We’re reopening it before the Stark Expo in November. Not only that, the north side of the mansion will be used as an Asgardian Embassy. Thor and Jane Foster will move in as permanent guests.”  

“Your parents are moving back here, yes?”

“Yes. And you will always have a position with them, if you want it.”  Darcy’s blue eyes danced with excitement. “But we--Steve, Bucky, and I--were wondering if you two would be interested in coming back to New York.  Catalina, we want you to be our major domo, and Oscar, we need someone to handle all of the accounting for the Asgardian Embassy. With your background in non-profit accounting, you’d be perfect.  We’ll buy out your company if you have any trouble selling it.  You’ll have quarters in the mansion, of course, for you and your kids.  You’ll be closer to your families and you’ll have the jet and the cars at your disposal.”

Catalina tilted her head.  “What about your parents?”

Darcy smiled. “Dad will complain.  But without me living there, it’s a lot less trouble.  It’s up to you.  They’ll need someone to take care of the house here, too.   I certainly will understand if you don’t want to move back to New York. The weather is crappier, it’s going to be a lot of work, and Stark Mansion is a hell of a lot harder to keep up than a brand new house in Malibu.  But I wanted to ask you first.”   

Before Catalina could reply, her daughter breezed through, scooping up a bite of arroya con leche as she did.  “Hey, Darcy.” She glanced at the two men. “Wow. I’m Angelica.”  

Steve and James rose to their feet and introduced themselves.  After the briefest chitchat, Angelica disappeared into the house again, and not long after that, Darcy chivvied her husbands out the door.

Oscar and Angelica helped Catalina clean up the kitchen.  

“Mama?”

“Yes, nenita?”

“How do you know Darcy Stark?”  

“Because I’ve worked for Tony Stark for more than twenty years,” Catalina said firmly.  Angelica stared at her mother, and Catalina tapped her on the nose. “She wanted to introduce her husbands to us.  It was important to her.”

“You said you worked for a guy named ‘Hogan.’ I’ve even met him.”

“That’s Mr. Stark’s bodyguard and friend.”  

Angelica started to pout.  “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Mr. Stark needed someone who could keep his secret.  That was me.  Now it’s not a secret anymore.” Catalina studied her daughter and husband.  “How do you feel about moving to New York?”

 

 

* * *

 

Col. James Rhodes stood at attention in the center of the room.  He’d known this day was coming  for twenty-four years.  He held his head high.  He knew these people on the Joint Armed Forces Committee, had fought for what he thought was right, and would do so now.

“Any particular reason you didn’t think it was important to disclose that Stark has a child he’s raising to take over Stark Industries eventually?”  The five-star general frowned in Rhodey’s direction as he studied his papers.

“Yes, sir. I understand your concerns, sir,” Rhodey answered respectfully.  

“And yet, you concealed this information.”

“I did, sir.”

“To what end?”

“Because Tony Stark is my friend, and I believe he made the right choice.”

* * *

 

Happy came home to a case of his favorite scotch sitting on his garage floor.  A tiny transmitter sat on top of the case with a note.  

_Thanks for keeping my secret.  Put this on your dash when you’re driving and the cops will never find you.  I paid off the last three tickets you got in New York.  --D_

* * *

 

Fury dropped by the house in Malibu just long enough to hand over a letter.  He disappeared before Pepper and Tony could read it.

 

_Pepper,_

_If Nick has given you this letter, it means we won.  We, my dearest friend, have pulled off one of the longest, most successful operations in S.H.I.E.L.D. history.  More importantly, Tony’s daughter has been allowed to grow up and take her place properly, without all the Stark family baggage._

_I would not have entrusted my precious Anthony to anyone but you.  The day you walked into my office was the day I knew all the mistakes Howard had made could be salvaged.  Tony will never be a perfect man, but he is a better one for your influence.  Darcy could not have a better mother._

_You took on the impossible challenge and brought home a victory that will profoundly shape our world in the decades to come.  Thank you._

_Yours,_

_Peggy Carter_

_P.S. Stop reading over Pepper’s shoulder, Anthony.  I still love you. That will never change._

 

“Damn, she’s good,” Tony grumped, as he rubbed his eyes.  

Pepper leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.  “You’re a pain in the ass.”  

“But I’m your pain in the ass.”

“Promise me you’ll keep it that way.”  

“I promise.  I love you.  Am I supposed to say that now? Or is that too maudlin given what you… we… just read?”

“I think it’s perfect, Tony.”  

 

* * *

 

Darcy’s friends toasted her with champagne after the announcement. Clint made popcorn, and they settled in front of the television to watch the reaction of the news outlets.  Even Coulson showed up to celebrate.  

 

* * *

 

Sharon Carter texted Darcy. _It’s about time.   Remind me to send you the video of the Company collectively losing their shit over the idea that Iron Man is Cap’s father-in-law._

 

* * *

 

The reporters begged Steve for answers to anything at all as he jogged around Central Park early one morning.  He stopped just long enough to tell them, “Howard would be impressed by his granddaughter. Between Pepper and Darcy, Stark Industries is in good hands.  Tony couldn’t be prouder for both of them.”

“What’s it like to have Tony Stark as a father-in-law?” one of them asked.  

“Kind of like The Godfather meets Toy Story. But with more robots.”

 

* * *

 

_Stark Expo  2016_

 

Stark Expo always lasted five days. Kicking off the holiday shopping season for the companies who attended--and ALL the major tech companies attended--it previewed on Wednesday, officially opened on Thursday, and Stark Industries always anchored the Saturday night extravaganza with whatever latest tech and toys the company had invented.  It was a perfect time to recap the extraordinary discoveries of the previous year, and to tease the exciting developments of the next.  

This year, they had something special planned.  Since Darcy’s announcement over the summer, after the initial media flurry, they had focused on getting Stark Industries used to the new arrangements in the executive office.   Expectations for the Stark Expo ran extraordinarily high this year, and Tony intended to deliver.  

As the music started with a deep, pounding beat, the lights dimmed and the stage lit up.  Across the screens, images of Stark Industries from its earliest days popped up.  Howard was in some of them; as were Bucky and Steve.  As the music intensified, Tony’s pictures appeared, and then Darcy’s--first as a little girl in Tony’s lab, and later at a Congressional hearings, and then in her lab surrounded by her work.

The noise from the audience was unmistakable to Tony and Darcy as they waited in the wings for their cue.  Pepper hovered on the opposite side of the stage, waiting for her cue as well.  She had that “I told you so” smile, and Tony melted a little inside.  He always did.  He tilted his head to look at his daughter.  She was so damned perfect. Smart. Witty. Complicated.  She’d grown up to be a good person in spite of his mistakes.  

“What is it?” Darcy asked.

He leaned just close enough to kiss her temple.  “You know, my dad once told me—well, not to me, but he put it on film for me—he said I would change the world with his work. He told me I was his greatest creation.”  Tony nodded as he looked up to the dazzling lights above the stage.  “You, Darcy Maria Stark, are my greatest creation.  And you’re going to take this world to the future.  I love you, honey.”

Darcy threw him a dazzling smile. “I love you too, Dad.”

“Now the fun begins.”

“Why do you say that?” Darcy asked as the announcer began calling their names.  

“For seventy years, one Stark has done a damned good job of shaking things up.  Now we have two. Let’s go scare the hell out of some people.” Tony took Darcy’s hand and they walked onto the stage, into the spotlight, to the deafening sound of the roaring crowd.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Stark Expo 2016 takes place in November 2015 ... the date stamp is using the same convention from Captain America: The First Avenger, where the 1943 Stark Expo is actually held in December 1942. 
> 
> This is important only because the last chapter of "When Tony Met Darcy" takes place sometime in 2016.


End file.
